


Pure as the driven snow

by RenSweets



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Because I like nice things, Because I love him hurt, Derek will get nice things, Fox Stiles, Fucking, Future Torture, Harris is a dick, Hurt Stiles, I'm twisted like that, Jump skips, M/M, No Beta, Omega Heats, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega's are rare, Once stiles is of age, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Fire, Peter and Stiles are Mates, Peter will loss his shit, Peter will not put up with anyones shit, Protective Peter Hale, Protective Scott McCall, Stiles is a sweetheart, Tramatized stiles, plot holes, protective Hales, stiles goes missing, still sassy as hell though, there will be angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenSweets/pseuds/RenSweets
Summary: It was a stroke of Luck Peter found him.It is Stiles lack of Luck that continues to harm him.





	1. Pure Hearts

 

It was a whim Peter even found the child. Not that he could really call the boy a child, he was more of a feral kit in the middle of a scared rage. Peter had been running off some of his anger, which of course his older sister and Alpha had stirred deep within the beta.

 

After the argument his sister had flashed Alpha red eyes at him demanding he run off his anger. Anger he had every right to feel. He had his own mind, his own will and he'd be damned if his sister tried to mold him into some sheep.

 

He refused to train with that little brat of a druid. He didn't trust the eighteen year old girl farther then he could throw her ass. Peter didn't trust her sweet smile or fluttering eyelashes everyone else seemed to be fooled by.

 

Fuck even Deaton, a man known for not showing much emotion towards others seemed to be swayed by the girl. And if that didn't throw up red flags then he didn't know what else would.

 

Talia was a fool, and when this blow up and he turned out to been right. You bet your ass he was going to point it to his fool of an Alpha. He had tried to tell her he didn't trust the girl, which in turn started a screaming match that scared the younger children in the house.

 

Even at twenty six, after watching his grandparents and his own parents being burned alive by a deranged hunter has made Peter a very jaded and untrustworthy being. And no one was going to change him of that trait.

 

Not even his bullhead sister.

 

So he was running, because if he didn't he was going to end up clawing someones throat out. He was on the edge of the Hale border, his human feet eating up the ground as quickly as he could. Peter wasn't really sure what made him slow, the scent or the pained cries of the animal but he did slow. At least enough to see the blur of darkness stumbling past him in a hast.

 

 

He stretched out his senses following the little creator as it ran, it wasn't hard for the beta to keep up. The little thing was stumbling along, its foot falls loud, snapping sticks and anything else in its wake. Peter's eyes flashed golden his wolf giving chase.

 

The animal, a fox he was guessing by the scared clicking almost chirping sound the poor thing was making. And it was a kit at that, not fully grown from what Peter could see from his fast pace behind the beast.

 

And if Peter wasn't mistaken... it had three tails. His eyes widen at the realization of what he was following moving faster to catch the kit. A kitsune, and by most accounts of any emissary world wide and ancient text he had read, it was a threat. How much of a threat Peter was not yet sure, but he didn't plan on finding out. It was best to just kill it and be done with it.

 

The fox whined and howled as if calling for help, but no answering calls ever came in reply which in turn made the ball of dirty, matted fluff in front of his whimper. The kit took a sudden left turn tumbling down a hill before hurrying to its feet and stumbling away. Peter followed sliding down behind the fox on sure feet and bounding after it.

 

The scent of fear was thick in the air as the pup jumped of a pile of brush landing hard on the other side. Peter saw an opening his claws extending over blunt human nails aiming for the throat when the fox stumbled away slowly making its way towards a pile of.... Peter froze.

 

The fox dropped to the ground falling over a pile of bones years old, any clothes the couple had been wearing when they died were mostly disintegrated with time. Again the kit whined nuzzling at the pile, the clicking whimpers sounded almost like a sob.

 

Peters arms fell limp to his side. Getting down on his knees he slowly made his way towards the, he tilted his head to the side. Definitely a boy, and thank god for small miracle no one was around to watch his stare that intensely at the genitals of another being. Even if the boy was in his furred state.

 

The boy dropped low to his belly baring teeth and snapping his jaw when Peter got to close to his.... Peter was going to assume parents. He didn't know how the couple died seeing as they didn't have flesh to mark out the wounds, but from the remnants of clothes left one was a women by the tattered floral shirt.

 

“Shhh.” Peter hushed holding out his hand to calm the boy. He couldn't judge by the size of the fox the age of the kit but he would make a guess at mid teens? Definitely not a small child, the kit was to big for that but not an adult either.

 

The kit shot forward a few feet snapping and growling. Peter moved back a pace not wanting to aggravate the boy or loss a hand. From how heavy the foxes scent was in the small area of brush this was where the boy stayed. So Peter was in the eyes of the most likely a feral kit, in his territory.

 

He looked the boy over. Peter couldn't tell the color of his fur, he was so covered in dried mud, and from what Peter could smell fresh blood. His fur a tangled mess with sticks and leaves sticking to it. He almost looked black, which didn't bode well with Peter. A dark kitsune feed on chaos and mayhem something they would cause themselves if they were hungry.

 

His teeth were sharp and in good condition but he could tell he was favoring his front left paw. An old injury maybe. Blood was seeping out of a wound the wolf couldn't make out under all that dirt, and the kit was severely under weight.

 

Winter had finally ending, one harsher then the likes of Beacon Hills had ever experienced in a while. It was no wonder the kit looked so skinny, with the amount of snow they got it would have been almost impossible for him to hunt.

 

“Come sweetheart, I won't hurt you.” Peter didn't know if he was lying or not so his heart didn't give him away. Which was good because it made the growling flatter, the harsh teeth that were bared relaxing. The kit worked his jaw crying softly.

 

So, he could understand him, at least to some extend because the boy move slowly closer on his belly. His ears flat on his head, tails tucked between his legs.

 

Under the smell of blood, mud and filth Peter could smell the scent of freshly fallen snow, warm honey and Peter inhaled... mint. What an odd combination yet, Peter was enjoying the scent more then he would like to admit.

 

A cold dry nose pressed into the wolfs palm, the boy huffed as he took in Peters scent. His heart rate was erratic, pounding loudly in Peters ears. He couldn't tell if it was from fear alone or in the boys body was fighting to keep him alive.

 

“I'm going to pick you up.” The wolf kept his words slow and quite as to not spook the boy away.

 

The kit huffed.

 

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Talia was seated on the back porch when Peter made his way out of the trees, a book in her had hiding her face. The younger male was no fool, he knew his sister wasn't reading, nope she was waiting to start in on him again about the training.

 

Which was not going to happen by any means.

 

The kit growled when he spotted the Alpha, wiggling in Peters arms to get away. Talia's head snapped up eyes flashing red as she took in the fox tucked safely in Peter's arms.

 

“What is that?” Talia snapped dropping her book and stomping down the stairs.

 

“It's a werefox.” Peter deadpanned raising his eyebrow in challenge.

 

“Peter there isn't any foxes in Beacon Hills.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes. “I'm aware sister dear, but this little guy begs to differ. Plus the two sets of remains from what I'm going to guess is his parents are just outside the border. So to be frank yes you are correct.”

 

“It's injured.” Hazel eyes took in the ball of muddy fur against his chest. The kit was still growling, snapping his jaw when she got to close. Talia growled low in her throat flashing red eyes at the boy. The fox suddenly went slack his eyes flashing light purple in return. Talia gasped moving back quickly while Peters heart kick started in his chest.

 

Jesus, the boy was a omega.

 

“Oh poor baby.” Talia whispered, her sudden aggressive behavior forgotten when she realize the boys status.

 

“We need to call Deaton.” Peter stated adjusting the boy in his arms. Talia nodded reaching out a hand to touch the boy. His head shot forward teeth once again bared snapping his jaw at her.

 

“Why isn't he submitting?” Peter sneered at his sisters words.

 

“He's feral. Almost took off my hand when I found him, probably would have succeeded if I got close enough.”

 

“He's letting you touch him.” Did she sound jealous or was it just hopeful thinking on Peters part.

 

“I approached him in caution, didn't show aggression.” Well besides chasing him down of course but Peter wasn't going to tell her that.

 

“You?” She snarked. “You are one of the most aggressive people I know Peter.”

 

Peter should probably be offended by this, but he was not. He had to much pride to care what his sister or anyone else for that matter thought of him.

 

“The boy needs medical attention Alpha, you can point out all my flaws later. After Deaton comes to check on the boy.” Peter sounded bored even to his own ears but his sisters normal scent of lavender and lemon grass soured with guilt.

 

“I'll call him now.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The fox teen was not handling the druid and his Alpha being in the same room with him well. With the added heads of curious teens poking around the corner to look down the stairs at the pup. The boy had worked himself into such a fit he was panting, growling so loudly drool dripped from his jaw onto the make shift medical table he was laying on.

 

Peter wanted to calm the boy, it was a pressure in his chest that didn't like seeing the kit so scared. But his almighty Alpha had ordered him back. Which pissed him off to no end.

 

“He's quite feral.” Deaton said his head tilted to the side watching the boy as he scurried across the table to the far corner, belly low ears pulled back.

 

“So we have established.” Peter snapped. “But could we I don't know, focus on calming him? All that moving is surly doing more damage to his body.”

 

“I have a tranquilizer gun.” The statement was said so calmly and dare Peter say bored that the wolf had to fight the urge to maim him. The doctor wouldn't sound so bored if he knew the boy had three tails or an omega for that matter. Talia hadn't wanted to let that information out yet. Not even Talia was aware of the extra tails, the boy has had the appendage tucked so tightly against his under belly no one had saw it but himself.

 

“Then why haven't you used it yet?” Laura asked from the door way.

 

“He looks very malnourished, if I give him to much it could stop his heart.” Peter growled his spine straightening at the statement. Deaton throw him a look his eyebrows raised. “I don't particularly want the werefox to die, but if he doesn't let me get close enough its a possibility.”

 

“I wouldn't recommend saying that doctor. You don't know how much of your speech he can understand.”

 

“He's to injured to launch himself at me, I'm not to concerned.”

 

Peter snorted a laugh. “He has three tails. You sure you want to test that theory, though your flippant tone makes me want to see what happens.”

 

Deaton sputtered then his eyes widening. “Three tails? You're sure?”

 

Peter sneered. “I've been up close and personal with him. I've watched his tails sway slowly as he hovered over his dead parents, I'm sure.”

 

“I see, well.” Deaton cleared his throat. “Maybe you should try calming him, he did let you carry him.”

 

Peter could feel the eyes burning holes in the back of his head, the scent of fury thick in the air. Ah, so bringing a feral werefox didn't cause to much concern to his sister. But a feral three tailed kitsune... Peter fought a smile.

 

The teens and now a few other adults at the top of the stairs have fallen into a hushed silence as Peter slowly moved towards the fox. In seconds the growling slowly tapered off.

 

“Interesting.” Deaton muttered, Peter was sure the doctor hadn't meant for him to hear but for some odd reason his hearing was hyper sensitive.

 

The kit whined when Peter got close enough to touch, his tiny paws pulling him closer to the older man.

 

“The hell?” Peter smirked at the awed sound of his nieces voice. “Why the hell does he trust Uncle Peter.”

 

“That's quite rude dear Laura, I'm very trust worthy.”

 

“You're as trust worth as a rabid tiger.” Derek shot back his eyebrows doing some complicated wiggle in his hairline.

 

Well they had a point, not that Peter was going to comment on the matter because now the kit was trying to climb his chest. Pawing at his now blood, mud stained blue v-neck, whining softly.

 

“Nope, it's definitely freaking weird.” Cora said moving down one step to get a closer look at the fox.

 

The boys tail slowly uncurled from his under belly swaying side to side now as he nosed at Peter's throat.

 

The wolf could feel Deaton slowly creeping up behind him, and luckily for the doctors sake the kid seemed so content as smelling Peter he didn't notice. As quickly as the doctor dared he grabbed the scruff of the foxes neck, inserting a needle before hurrying away after injecting the sedative.

 

The foxes cried out once, turning as to snap at the hand before Peter ran his fingers through his tangled fur calming him.

 

It didn't take long for the drugs to work. The fast patter of the foxes heart slowed, his head bobbing forward till he collapsed against his chest. The wolf took his cue, laying the boy flat on his side before moving out of the druids way.

 

Snapping on a pair of gloves the doctor made fast work of poking and prodding at the boys stomach. The doctor clicked his tongue, a noise that grated on Peter's nerves as he felt around.

 

“He has a few broken ribs.” his hands moved lower. “Some swelling around his left kidney that's concerning.” Again he click his tongue. Peter flinched at the sound. “Claw marks on the back hind leg on the right side. Possibly from a mountain lion.”

 

“A laceration above his right eye, It will need stitches as well as the claw mark.” Peter was starting to cringe at the list of wounds. “Front left leg is broken and.” The doctor looked into the pups ears, “a nasty infection in his right ear. A since I don't have a time frame on how long he has had it could probably result in lose of hearing.”

 

“I'd hate to point out the obvious here, but if he is a werefox, shouldn't he be healing?” Again Laura's voice filtered down the stairs.

 

“He's very under weight, has been living in the woods for who knows how long without a proper diet and rest. His body is exhausted. Foxes in general don't heal as fast as werewolves, their process is faster then a humans but slower then yours. It's no surprise he's not healing properly.”

 

“What needs to be done first?” Peter glanced as his sister, surprised she even cared if the fox child got the help he needed. Peter had thought with her finding out he was a kitsune she would have him removed from Hale territory.

 

“He needs to be bathed, which I'd suggest you do while he is out of commission.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes, had they not just seen the boy has already taken a liking to him? Even if the fox was awake he could bathe him with no problem. At that Peter was sure.

 

Or maybe it was just his pride that made him feel that way.

 

“I'll bathe him, then bring him back down here for you.”

 

Deaton glanced at Peter. “Well have to wait till he is in human form before I can fix his bones.”

 

“Why?” Cora asked, her voice closer then it was before.

 

“He'll need a cast, and I'm just taking a guess here mind you but this break is old, it's likely he broke it while in human form.”

 

“You're saying that idiot shifted with broken bones?” Peter had to bite his tongue to not growl. He had been so focused on the fox that he completely missed the fact the little bitch druid in training had shown up. Why she was here Peter wasn't sure but the little con-artist slid past Peter stopping right next to Deaton. Her dark brown eyes scanned the boy, Peter frowned at the small smile on her lips as she leaned to close to the kit for the wolfs liking.

 

In seconds he was moving, scooping the boy into his arms and headed up the stairs.

 

“I'll be done shortly.”

 

“Hey!” Jennifer snapped. “I was looking at it!”

 

Peter snarled bouncing up the steps past his family. “He's not an it.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The first round in the bath was simply Peter using the removable shower head to spray the excess amount of dirty out of his fur. That was after the wolf had spend twelve minutes picking the stick and dead leaves out of his coat first so it wouldn't clog the drain.

 

Even after the first spray down the thick coat was still to dirty to make out his coloring. Which depending on how long he was out there wasn't unsurprising. The brush he had been living in didn't keep him out of the weather. And by the number of wounds that covered his small frame it was a miracle all on its own he was even alive.

 

After a second spray down of warm water Peter grabbed his shampoo, the scent was light as to not overpower the wolves sensitive noses. Sandalwood with a hint of coconut, which Peter made himself. He didn't much like any of the human brands. To harsh on his senses. He made most of the body products for the pack, taking their preference on smells.

 

It took three good lathers of shampoo before Peter could make out the color of his fur and to say he was shocked would be an understatement.

 

Because well hell, the boy was no black fox... or a red one for that matter... he had been certain the kit was a dark kitsune but now after seeing his fur. He had no idea what the teen was.

 

His coat was pure white as the freshly driven snow...

 

An arctic fox perhaps? Peter had a treasure trove of knowledge but he had never read anything on this before.

 

Shaking away his surprise he grabbed the conditioner, he needed to hydrate his fur to keep it from tangling again. As he lightly ran his fingers through the fur working the soap into the strands the fox began to stir.

 

What started as a growl quickly became a purr as the fox took into account he was in no danger. His small nose twitched scenting the air, the pup huffed relaxing once more as his fur continued to be cleaned.

 

“Enjoying yourself are you?” Peter didn't know why he asked, or where the question even came from but the fox answered with a loud purr. Peter smiled.

 

“Well, I may not be the one getting the rub down, but I'm pleased to the fact you don't smell like a sower anymore.”

 

Big amber eyes glared at Peter flashing white momentarily. Now the wolf was curious, purple and white... He knew the purple identified him as an omega but he had no idea what the white meant.

 

Well, Peter did always love the challenge of a good mystery.

 

With a final rinse the blue eyed man removed the kit from the tub. Sitting him gently on the bath mat before grabbing the hair dyer.

 

The fox snarled at the object trying to move away, teeth snapping.

 

“Shhh.” Peter laid a gentle hand on the kits neck. “It's just warm air to dry you.”

 

The wolf flipped on the switch glad that he had spent the extra money on buying an over priced blow drier that was quiet. Well at least not as loud as a cheap one.

 

The fox started, stumbling backwards as the warm air touched his fur before calming. He still eyes the device every once in a while when Peter brought it closer to his body but he stayed relaxed until the wolf was done grooming him.

 

“There sweetheart, much better. Now you don't stink and your fur looks amazing.” If you didn't take into account the wound on his hind leg was starting to bleed again. The red standing out against the snow white fur.

 

He pulled the animal into his arms. “Now stay calm for me okay? It's about to get crowded.”

 

The boy tensed as soon as Peter made it towards the basement door his damn curious pack still mingling in the hallway.

 

“Oh, Pretty!” seventeen year old Cora bounced forward hand extended towards the fox as if to touch.

 

The little brat barked, snapping his jaw at the girl making her stop in her tracks. Cora's dark hazel eyes flashed golden her own snarl leaving her lips.

 

“Cora!” Peter snapped, but it was too late. The kits eyes flashed purple in return and much like her mothers reaction the girl gasped stumbling backwards. “Oh my god! He's an omega!?”

 

That seemed to offend the fox somehow because his growl grew impossibly loud but didn't hide the fact that Peters pack where now all crowding around them.

 

Peter could feel the kids heart rate flutter before speeding up impossibly fast before it registered in his ears.

 

“Seriously? He's an omega?” Laura leaned over her little sisters shoulder eyeing the fox. The fox huffed and whined loudly his breathing coming in almost sharp gasp.

 

The scent of panic filled the air.

 

“Back off!” Peter snarled making the group in front of him jump back. “Can't you idiots hear and smell that your scaring the poor thing.”

 

Derek and Isaac seemed to be the only ones hanging back, and that was why they were Peter's favorite.

 

Their Alpha's roar boomed through the air making everyone flinch. “Don't you all have things you should be doing?” Talia snapped flying up the stairs her eyes red and angry. “I know none of you have done your homework, so get it done now. James.” Talia addressed her husband as he came up the stairs the only pack member who hadn't been stalking around. “Will you start dinner for me? Laura will help you once she's done.”

 

The nineteen year old gave an annoyed huff before stomping off. The others quickly following behind her.

 

“Peter bring him down here.” Those eyes finally landed on the odd pair, red eyes fading back to hazel. She blinked once, then twice. “Oh, he's white.”

 

The younger sibling had to hold back his snarkey reply. “Yes, it appears so.”

 

Which he still didn't know what to make of that, but he could worry about that later. Moving towards the stairs Peter was disappointed to see and unfortunately smell the fact that Jennifer was still here.

 

Both the Druid's had different reactions to seeing the fox. Deaton's eyes grow impossibly wide and Peter would have to say this was the most he had ever seen the man react to anything. While the bitch smelled of glee, she schooled her features though as soon as Taila entered the room. Peter glared at her.

 

“Impossible.” Deaton muttered moving slowly forward. The fox shrank back against Peters chest.

 

Peter raised an eyebrow in question.

 

“Do you have any idea of what you found?”

 

“No Doc I don't, but won't you enlighten me?” Peter scolded. “And none of your round about bullshit either.”

 

Talia gave a warning growl.

 

“It's supposed to be a myth, or more along the lines of a species dying out thousands of years ago. Murdered or drained of energy but dark kitsune's, witches and hunters.” The vet tilted his head to the side. “While a dark kitsune feeds on chaos its counter part.” He pointed to the fox. “Gives.”

 

Jennifer grinds her teeth. “And by gives he means, with that cryptic bullshit, a white or in some old scrips refers to them as a “lunar fox” can give to the earth. Healing and strengthening the lives of people or nature itself. They have a strong earth magic, enabling them to do things not even an elemental mage can dream of. The power has to be freely given though or taken by dark magic. You can't just kill him to take his magic. And in the off chance a lunar fox has a mate it will share it's power to them through their bond.”

 

Deaton was looking at the teen questionably now, which to Peter's great pleasure was fantastic.

 

“I wasn't aware you have covered that in your studies yet Ms. Blake.”

 

The girl shrugged, “I like to dabble, you already know I'm ahead of most of the druids in training, that's why I was sent to you.”

 

Deaton pulled what only Peter could assume was a smile. “Yes, of course.”

 

The beta was once again pissed. Could they truly not see the girl wasn't to be trusted!

 

The fox shuddered in Peter's arms. The smell of pain now heavy in the air. Talia stepped forward picking up on the scent as well.

 

“Well, on that note. Could we help with his injuries now?”

 

Deaton started. “Yes of course. Will just sedate him again and I'll...”

 

“No.” Peter snapped interrupting the Doctor. “I can keep him calm, there is no need for drugs.”

 

Deaton blinked. “I would much prefer to not have my throat ripped out.”

 

Peter growled. “He will be calm, plus don't we need him to shift back?”

 

Deaton tilted his head in thought. “If you can get him to shift I will treat him that way.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It had taken Peter thirty minutes to get the boy to shift, but now they seemed to be at some type of impasse. The boy, all pale skin dotted with moles, dark chocolate brown hair disheveled was curled in a corner.

 

His perfectly bowed lips pulled back in a snarl, blunt human teeth snapping. The sound of clicking and loud growls vibrated up his throat in warning as anyone grow close. Peter was the closest on his knees arm out, palm up. The boy hadn't tried to take a bite out of him yet but he didn't seem as trusting of Peter in this form.

 

Maybe he just felt safer as a fox. Which Peter could understand, werefoxes had no beta form so the boy couldn't rely on his claws and teeth while human.

 

“Any day now Mr. Hale. I do have other patients to see.”

 

The only reason Peter didn't growl back in kind was because he didn't want to frighten the boy. Talia had already flashed alpha eyes at the teen and that had resulted in an ear piercing scream.

 

“Unfortunately I don't think it would be wise to rush him.” They didn't need him shifting back into a fox.

 

“Shhh, sweetheart. You're okay.” Peter knew his sister was giving him a funny look, he didn't have to turn to see it.

 

“I won't hurt you.” The growl quieted some but didn't stop. Peter took that as a good sign and slowly moved forward on his knees.

 

Big amber eyes watched him warily, Peter watched him in turn. He was tall, not as tall as Peter or Derek but not short either. All long limbs and delicate fingers. His left arm was held protectively against his chest and much to Peter's displeasure it was badly misshapen.

 

He was far to skinny. Under the bruises and bleeding wounds you could see his protruding ribs, the deep dip in his stomach. His cheeks were hallow and if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by he hadn't slept in days.

 

“Come here sweetheart.” Peter wiggled his fingers at the boy, watching closely as his big eyes tracked the movement. His head was tilted to the side the gash just below his forehead dripping blood into his eyebrows.

 

Just when Peter was sure the boy wasn't going to move he gave an awkward crawl forward on unsteady knees and one shaky arm. The broken one still tucked safely against his chest. The wolf stayed perfectly still as the boy moved into his lap, tensely smelling at his neck like his fox form had.

 

Their mingling scents seemed to calm the boy greatly, with a pained cry he leaned against Peter.

 

“I'm going to move you to the table now sweetheart.” The boy tensed. “You're fine.” Long tanned fingers brushed through the teens hair. Once sure he was calm enough Peter easily pulled himself to his feet the boy secure in his arms. He was naked as the day he was born, the cold metal of the table he sat on made him whine.

 

“Hush now.” Peter didn't know if he was actually following the words but at least the tone was soothing enough.

 

Again like when the kid was in his fox form Deaton used his distraction in scenting Peter to jam a needle into his arm. The boy cried out, while Peter snarled in kind.

 

In seconds the kid was limp in his arms.

 

“What the fuck was that for?” His claws extended. His gums felt to heavy with sharp teeth.

 

“Peter!” Talia snarled.

 

“I don't trust him not to lash out.”

 

“And any trust he has in me will be lost if you keep fucking jabbing him with needles while he's safe in my arms.” Peter snapped back. Talia flattered at that, looking thoughtful. Almost.

 

“It's better this way Peter. I can set and cast his arm and not have to worry about dying in the process now.”

 

The bastard of a doctor shouldn't count on that. Peter was seconds into killing him himself. And people wondered why he didn't trust anyone besides his pack. And he would never admit to doing that.

 

“Hurry and do what you need. Your last sedative only last about forty five minutes. And I'm not likely to save you if he goes for your throat. Not with the way you have treated him.”

 

“Damn it Peter stop!” Talia snapped stomping forward pulling her brother back by his arm. “What in god's name is your problem?”

 

“I don't like how he's treating the boy. He's feral yes, but he hasn't harmed anyone. Plus an omega on top of it, they are delicate.”

 

Talia softened then, in understanding. “He's not trying to harm him, he could have been more tactful in the matter.” She shot the doctor a dark glare. “But at least this way he can get treatment without being frightened and hurting himself farther.”

 

Peter sighed. “I'm not apologizing.” The wolf snapped.

 

“I'm not asking you too.” Taila replied back.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The boy was poking at his cast his lip pulled back in an unhappy scowl.

 

It wasn't cute at all.

 

Peter was sticking to that.

 

Really he was.

 

They had been down in the basement for an hour now, Peter with a book in his hand reading. Well pretending to read, in reality he was watching the boy as he paced the room now in a pair of soft gray sweats and a white shirt. They didn't really have anything that would fit him, the pants were to long the shirt hung low off his left shoulder.

 

But at least he was clothed.

 

Even though Peter had already had to redress him four times after he got angry as the material rubbing against his skin.

 

Scenery over load Peter suspected.

 

The boy was terribly touch starved as well. Not that Peter could touch him to help with that problem. Since he woke up he had done nothing but scowl and growl at the older male. Which given the fact the last two times he held him he had been stabbed with a needle Peter wasn't surprised.

 

Peter still wasn't pleased by that fact though.

 

He could hear the boys stomach making some god awful noise, which in turn made the boy whine. He had clawed at his stomach a few times. Peter was now waiting for Isaac to bring down a light rice soup. His stomach after being starved for so long undoubtedly couldn't handle heavy foods.

But Peter was determined to feed him.

 

When the door to the basement opened the teen shot across the room to the corner, growling and snapping human teeth. Isaac froze on the fifth step, head low a bowl of soup in his hand. Watching the boy.

 

Isaac was probably one of the most understanding, he knew fear. He knew when to back off when his family would push forward. It had taken the Hales a long time to get Isaac comfortable with touch and having someone in close proximity. He's never been a rabid fox boy though. Not exactly touch starved either.

 

He once found touch repulsive.

 

Then again it was to be expected when you had a father that once beat you.

 

Peter and Talia took care of him. No one even looked into the death of Mr. Lahey. It was chopped up to an animal attack and left at that.

 

Peter wished he could rip his throat out again on the days Isaac woke from nightmares.

 

The young wolf slowly made his way down the stairs. His steps slow, his face impassive and calm. The growling didn't stop but the fox in human skin didn't move to attack.

 

Baby steps.

 

Once the soup was placed in Peters hand Isaac waved lightly before heading back up the stairs, the growling stopped once the door closed.

 

The boy began to pace again, but to Peters amusement his small upturned nose kept scenting the air. Smelling the food in Peters hand.

 

The older wolf stood slowly from the chair he had brought down from the study. He sat on the cold floor book forgotten. The fox watched him, eyes curious. Though still wary, distrusting. The kid was smart. If you asked Peter. Trust had to be earned, and we hadn't earned his yet.

 

Peter lifted the spoon to his lips taking a small bite, honey eyes tracked the movement. A pink tongue licked at his bowed lips.

 

Peter took another bite, showing the teen the food was safe. Bare feet slowly inched closer nose raised again. His hunger overpowering his distrust. It would do that to a starved child. Not that Peter could call him a child. The boy was seventeen if Peter had to guess, just barely. Possibly only a few months older then Cora.

 

They would know more once his DNA and finger prints came back. If they could find anything on him of course.

 

Someone had to be missing the kid. A family member, a close friend.

 

Anyone.

 

The kit dropped to his knees a few inches from Peter, leaning forward sniffing at the bowl in his hands. Peter smiled, slowly moving the dish closer to hungry teen. Long delicate fingers reached for it, his hands curved at an odd angle, as if they were still paws.

 

The kid almost dropped the bowl, it was only Peter's steady hand that kept the contents of the bowl off the floor. Eye's scanned Peters own hand, pale fingering mimicking Peters the teens grip on the white dish was now better.

 

“Smart boy.” Peter praised.

 

Pink lips twitched, as if the teen wanted to smile.

 

It was an awkward process with the spoon, so much so the boy got frustrated and throw it across the room before using his fingers to eat. Peter didn't correct him, he let him be. They could work on holding eating utensils another time.

 

The sound of the bowl shattering across the floor made Peter jerk, a blur of movement and a startled cry of fear had the boy back in his corner.

 

Peter sighed before collecting the glass. “It's okay sweetheart.”

 

The fox cuffed in reply, whining softly.

 

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It took Peter two hours to get the boy to go up the stairs. Peter was tired and even though the kid was relatively comfortable down in the basement, Peter refused to sleep down there. He had a nice plush bed upstairs. He intended on using it.

 

The teen froze though because to get to the stairs to head up to the other floors you had to pass the living room. Which of course housed several teens, loud ones that were laughing and horsing around. Peter hadn't heard them in the soundproof basement.

 

It was like a pack of wild animals, in human form. You would think grown teenagers would have more manners. But as a pillow went sailing past the arch way scaring the even loving hell out of the fox, Peter couldn't expect the other brats to have manners.

 

The kid wailed, ducking low before shooting off down the hall looking for escape. Peter cursed turning quickly to take chase when a wolf bound around the corner snarling before tackling the scared kid to the ground.

 

His head made a sicking crack as it bounced off the floor. The teen gasped eyes wide and dazed before they rolled into the back of his head.

 

“Damn it, Laura!” Peter roared grabbing the she wolf by her neck and tossing her away. Dropping to his knees Peter slid his fingers over the back of the kids head. He didn't feel blood, but there was already a knot the size of a golf ball forming.

 

Laura shifted.

 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Peter snapped lifting the kid into his arms.

 

“He was escaping!” The teen shot back.

 

“He was scared you fool, he wasn't escaping he was going to hide. And on another note, he's not a prisoner.”

 

Laura bit her lip. “He's a kitsune.”

 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “He's an omega, tell me dear niece. What is an omega.”

 

“They are caregivers of packs.” Her shoulders dropped. “They interact play and help soothe pack-mates.”

 

“Have you ever, in your nineteen years of life heard of a omega being dangerous.”

 

Laura growled. “You know damn well an omega can go into a rage and kill.”

 

Peter huffed an nauseated laugh. This kid was to light in his arms. “An omega rage is only activated when their family or someone they care about is in danger. It takes a hell of a lot to get an omega to fall into a rage.”

 

“There are children in this house! I can't have him running around and possibly hurting Jamie!”

 

“You can't use your little brother as an excuse for attacking someone who wasn't a threat. I know this pack doesn't think highly of me but I find at this moment that I'm apparently not trusted to keep my pack-mates safe. I wouldn't have allowed him to hurt Jamie.”

 

Shame and sadness filled the air.

 

“We trust you Uncle Peter.” Laura whispered.

 

“You just proven you don't” Peter stomped off before this conversation could go farther. Plus his sister standing in the kitchen door way looking at him with sad eyes made him want to howl in a rage. Not to mention all the teens now standing in the hall way looked shameful.

 

He went upstairs.

 

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It wasn't often Peter felt unwanted by his pack. Normally he didn't give a shit what people thought. Even since the fire things had changed. The scars on his back even nine years later still stood out harsh and ugly against his skin.

 

Even as a teen Peter didn't have the nicest of personalities, but after the fire. After watching his parents burn and been unable to save them and his grandparents he wasn't even remotely able to fake kindness most of the time.

 

Unless it was towards his pack.

 

A pack that didn't trust him to protect them.

 

Huffing an annoyed breath Peter headed towards the couch in his room gently laying the fox boy down on it. He would have put the kid on the bed but Peter was sure his scent lingering all over the sheets would not be soothing to the teen.

 

Not that the couch didn't hold his scent as well but it wasn't as overpowering as the bed. After making sure his door was locked he headed towards his bathroom to shower. While the teen was now clean, Peter still had blood and mud on him.

 

He took pride in his looks, and being dirty wasn't something he enjoyed.

 

The left the door open while he showered, since every room was soundproofed he wanted to be able to hear if the kid woke up.

 

He was so engrossed in washing that when he stepped out of the tub with a towel around his waist he had to fight the urge to claw at the boy standing inches from him.

 

“What the hell kid?” Jesus, Peter hadn't even heard him move.

 

The boy tilted his head to the side, his eyes following a trail of water that Peter had yet to dry. It beaded over the burned scars that weaved over his right shoulder and down his chest. The burns stopped at his hip.

 

It was almost comical to Peter that only the right side of his midsection was burned, while his back was one big ugly jigsaw puzzle. It was puckered still and harsh to the touch, but over the years it had stopped looking so red. Now it had a disgusting shine to it.

 

A hand touched the scares on his chest, his hands were shaky but their was a gleam in his eyes that Peter wanted to say was rage.

 

It had been a long time since anyone had touched him. At least his scars, he wasn't expecting the skin to be so hyper sensitive. The teens unsteady fingers made his flesh tingle.

 

The boy growled at the flesh, like it personally offend him.

 

Then his skin was heating up, not burning per say but not his normal warm skin. When the boys hands began to glow slightly and his eyes flashed white Peter made to move away. But a plaster covered hand held him in place.

 

The boy huffed out a whine, the scent of pain was so potent it made Peter gag. The boy dropped like a rock, almost slamming his head against the sink if Peters arms hadn't shot out to catch him.

 

“Hey?” Peter shook the boy lightly.

 

Didn't this make a picture. A grown ass naked man, since Peter dropped the towel to keep the kid from braining himself and a passed out battered teen in his arms.

 

It wasn't till the over sized shirt slid off the boys right shoulder did Peter almost drop him, himself.

 

The wolfs eyes looked down at his chest, heart pounding his free hand touched his back.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Quickly scooping the boy into his arms Peter disposed of him on the bed before throwing on some sweats and running down stairs.

 

“Talia!” There must have been something in his voice that normally wasn't there because his sister and most of the pack came rushing from various places.

 

“What? What's wron...” Her voice died in her throat. “Oh my god.”

 

Eyes filled with tears his sister reached out a hand touching his now smooth skin.

 

“How?”

 

Peter snapped back to himself. “The boy, he. Shit I don't even know. He took the scars.”

 

Peter didn't like not knowing things. Knowledge was power.

 

“Took them how?” His sister searched him for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

 

“Of course I'm not hurt! I don't have a single fucking mark on my body. He took them, my scars are now on his skin. Like he was just burned alive. I need you to call Deaton. He passed out as soon as he did it, he's in pain.”

 

Talia nodded quickly. “Yes, yes of course. Right away.”

 

His sister rushed off.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

“Well, you definitely don't have to worry about him being a dark kitsune. Not that we haven't already established that.” Deaton's voice was awed as he bandaged the boys chest and back.

 

If the boy got anymore bandages we wouldn't be able to see his skin.

 

“I wasn't worried about him being a dark kitsune. I'm worried about the fact it looks like someone just set him on fire!”

 

His flesh even smelled chard and melted.

 

It made Peter dizzy.

 

“I can't really tell you that, because honestly I don't know what the boy did. It's not like we have a lot of information on lunar foxes. They were supposed to be a myth.”

 

“Leave it to Uncle Peter to find a mythical creator.” Cora said with a slight laugh.

 

“We're werewolves, it's pretty much obvious there are millions of things we aren't aware of.” That's why Peter liked to know at least a little bit about everything mythical. Even if it has been said they don't exist.

 

“I may not have anything on lunar foxes but I do have the results of his finger prints and DNA.” Peter perked up at that.

 

The boy began to stir on the bed. His eyes fluttered open and he snarled, shooting back against the headboard. Teeth bared. They were rather sharp for a human.

 

Deaton slowly moved backwards.

 

The boy whimpered as he registered his new wounds.

 

“Now.” Keeping a watchful eye on the kid in the bed the doctor went to his bag and pulled out some files.

 

“You already got results?” Derek sounded skeptical.

 

“Yes, I had someone who owed me a favor. I called it in.” The doctor slapped the papers against Peters still bare chest. “Eight years ago a missing persons report was filled for the Stilinski family two towns over. John Stilinski was a cop, so when he didn't show up for his shifts his partner went looking for him.”

 

Deaton folded his arms over his chest. “According to the report their house was a mess. Over turned tables, bullet holes, broken glass and blood. Most of the blood couldn't be identified, but some belonged to Claudia Stilinski, John and their nine year old son...” Deaton stopped. “I can't pronounce his name to be honest.”

 

Peter flipped open the file scanning the names.

 

He stopped on the boys.

 

Mieczyslaw. Peter wrinkled his nose. “It's polish, at least that much I can tell you.” What a name to stick the poor kid with.

 

Peter looked at the name underlined besides the boys full name. “Stiles?” A nickname perhaps?

 

Peter's words seemed to trigger something in the kid. He shot forward towards Peter a high pitched cry on his lips, his heart pounding in his chest. Tears slid down his cheeks.

 

“Stiles?” Peter stepped forward just as the boy... Stiles let out a broken sob. He nodded wildly, humming and clicking. All most like...

 

He was trying to form words.

 

“It seems, you called him by something he is quite use too or at least was at one point.”

 

Stiles slammed into Peter's chest, chuffing and whining. His tears dampening Peter's skin.

 

“The police looked for them for three months before giving up. They had no living relatives and very few friends. With the lack of people wanting to know what happened to them they were presumed dead.” Deaton tacked on, powering over the fact that there was a distressed boy in the room.

 

“Eight years.” Talia muttered. “That poor baby has been in the woods for eight years.”

 

“Roughly yes, I went and collected the bones. Ran a few test on any DNA I was able to find, which was surprisingly a lot. With the boy constantly laying over his dead family it protected it from the elements. Those remains are his parents, and after close examination I was able to determine how they died.”

 

Stiles sobs were tapering off, his breath huffing against Peter's skin.

 

“The father was shot in the back of the head, most likely while running. The mother though from the tool marks I found on her throat was almost beheaded.”

 

Stiles screamed then, not a scream of an animal either. A blood curdling scream of a scared kid, before he was leaning forward throwing up all the food Peter was able to get him to eat.

 

He heaved, almost falling off the bed and was only saved from face planting in his own vomit by Peter's arms around his chest.

 

“Get out now.” It was clear the boy could understand words better then they thought.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It was four in the morning before Peter was able to calm Stiles. Now the tired man sat at the bar in the kitchen drinking coffee, reading over everything the Doctor had left for him.

 

There wasn't much on the police report. True to his word the investigation was dropped as soon as someone stopped asking about the small family. No one thought to check four hundred miles outside of town for them.

 

Maybe if someone would have, the boy wouldn't have suffered so much.

 

There was a four pictures in the file. One of John Stilinski in his police uniform smiling slightly. One of Claudia in front of a chalkboard in her kindergarten class, her smile was bright her eyes a few shades darker the Stiles. And one of nine year old Stiles, he was sitting in the grass looking up at whoever was holding the camera his smile blinding, his eyes so innocent.

 

It was nothing like the panicked boy upstairs.

 

The last photo was a family one, they were pulled close together laughing with one another. Stiles sitting between them looking up at his parents with what Peter could only call uncontrollable love.

 

Someone had stolen that from him.

 

“Peter?” Blue eyes glanced up at his sister as she dropped into a chair next to him. “Why aren't you sleeping?”

 

“I just got Stiles to calm down.” Peter dropped the picture of the happy family.

 

Talia frowned. “It was bad then, his panic attack.”

 

“Did you expect something different?”

 

Talia shook her head. “I had hoped. He had spent so much time in his fox form he would have forgotten the human emotions behind the loss.”

 

Peter tilted his head to the side. “I don't think he's actually feral. He's calm in the scene he doesn't blindly attack. He only growls and snaps when he feels threatened. How he managed to stay sane in that form I don't know but he's not feral.”

 

“I have to agree, but he is broken.”

 

“Of course. He watched his family being murdered at the young age of nine. That would break any child.”

 

“You're not broken.” The statement stunned Peter.

 

“I was also not a child when I saw our family killed. I was seventeen. I may be jaded and I don't trust lightly but I'm not broken. I'm a failure more then broken, I am everything but that.”

 

Talia's eye grow wide. “Peter, you didn't.... You're not a failure.”

 

Peter gave a barked laugh. “I couldn't save our parents, our grandparents.... that makes me a failure.”

 

“You killed all those hunters! Seventeen years old, with life threatening burns and you killed every single one of those hunters Peter. You are anything but a failure, and I'm shocked you think that way. You my bullheaded, stubborn baby brother. You sass and argue and a sarcastic little shit most of the time but never a failure.”

 

Peter turned away. His sister and him had never talked in depth about that night. Not from lack of her trying, but as she pointed out he was stubborn. He didn't want her to see his weakness.

 

“I trust you with the life of this pack more then I trust anyone else.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It was Isaac who Stiles took to next. One night while Peter was away at work the boy had woke up screaming. Isaac reacted fastest, sliding under Peter's bed where Stiles had taken up sleeping the night Deaton had sent him into a panic attack.

 

He's night terrors were often, the pack had never heard them while Peter was present. With the bedroom door always closed tightly to give them privacy.

 

But the night Peter got called away to work he had left the door open for his pack to look out for the boy.

 

When Peter returned home he found two sleeping teens under his bed. A mess of tangled limbs, Stiles was curled around the blonde boy, holding on to him like his life depended on it.

 

Maybe it did.

 

Since that night Stiles would only have to make a small chirping sound for Isaac to come. A sound Stiles used only for the blonde haired puppy. They didn't touch unless Stiles interacted it first, but they did sit close, Isaac talking idly to fill the silence.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It was a month into the boy staying there before he was brave enough to leave the comfort of Peters room. The pack had been sitting at the dining table eating when the boy stumbled in. His eyes wide, almost shy as he looked at them. His cheeks had a little more shape to them, his color wasn't so washed out.

 

But he wasn't better. He had lost the hearing in his infected ear. His wounds were healing at a concerning rate, slower then that of even a human.

 

We couldn't figure out why. But Deaton was determined to figure it out.

 

Peter always made sure to leave an open chair next to him in case Stiles ever got the nerve to join them, tonight he was glad for that. The boy slowly made his way forward, his bare feet... (he refused to wear shoes) were light as he gravitated towards Peter.

 

Once seated Stiles leaned impossibly close to Peter, there shoulders touching. The older male was the only one who got to frequently touch Stiles. Isaac on the other hand got a shy wave from the boy, something he had picked up on from the curly haired blond.

 

Peter could always smell jealousy from the other teens when Stiles acknowledged Isaac.

 

Talia sat a plate of food in front of the boy. He wasn't eating what the others were yet. Still sticking to rice and now fish to help his stomach get regulated on food again.

 

Stiles still couldn't get his hands to hold a spoon or fork, but no one looked at him in disgust while he ate with his fingers. He wasn't messy about it, always ate slowly but an arm always stayed curled around his food. Like he was afraid someone would take it.

 

He didn't know otherwise.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It was three months before anyone heard him speak. The pack had been sitting in the movie room, teens and adults alike sprawled out watching a kid friendly movie.

 

The jungle book, chosen by Jamie who wanted to show Stiles the live action movie.

 

The teen twitched and wiggled as he sat next to Peter, a trait that the wolf found enduring and adorable.

 

They were part way through the film when Stiles sat up, his now cast free arm tugging on Peters shirt.

 

“Peter.” The movie was shut off in seconds, all eyes on the boy as he stared at the older man.

 

Peter wasn't really sure what he was supposed to feel in this moment, but he was sure he wasn't supposed to feel cocky by the fact his name was the first words the boy had spoken.

 

“Yes Stiles?” Peter always made it a point to say his name, it always made the boys scent sweeten when he heard it.

 

Stiles worked his jaw, like he was having trouble forming the words he wanted to use. Maybe he was, after spending eight years only making the sounds of a fox, words had to be hard for him.

 

“Outside.” The words were slow and slightly broken but Peter understood, Stiles wanted to go outside. It was the first time he had requested anything.

 

Peter quickly jumped up to give him what he wanted.

 

Stiles hadn't left the safety of the house since he arrived, to afraid to leave Peter's room most days.

 

Peter didn't fault him for that.

 

Once outside the sun was high for noon and it was warm day in July. Peter had found Stiles in the woods two weeks after his seventeenth birthday. Once outside the boy quickly shifted, he hadn't been in that form since the day Peter made him shift.

 

He rolled in the grass, barking and yipping happily. Jamie the youngest Hale at seven shifted to join in on the fun. Stiles was more comfortable with him then he was Isaac, him being a child was most likely the reason behind that.

 

Stiles in all his snow white glory bounced after the pup gekkering happily as the pup tackled him. Peter sat on the porch watching as they played. Stiles didn't do much other then hide most days so it was cute watching him hop around. His tails swaying behind him as he shot across the yard.

 

No one else tried to join. To afraid of scaring the boy as he enjoyed himself.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

They couldn't find Stiles one day, the Hale house being massive it was easy to loss track of people. And Peter wouldn't have been worried, if it wasn't for the fact he couldn't scent the boy either. Isaac was running around upstairs shouting for the boy, then cursing colorfully when he didn't get an answer.

 

It wasn't until Peter rounded the kitchen again did he notice the back door was ajar. Heart pounding Peter took off down the stairs of the back porch, howling for his pack as he took off. There weren't very many at home at the moment. Only James, Isaac and Scott but it was enough for them to fan out and look for Stiles.

 

He had never left the house on his own before. Even when he just wanted to go sit outside he would pull Peter along with him or Isaac.

 

Peter was afraid to find out why that changed.

 

He had left the boy sleeping on the couch when he went to the study to finish a case.

 

He could hear the others as they ran through the preserve searching for their lost pack-mate. And Stiles was pack, odd and scared, worried when others got to close but he was pack as far as Peter was concerned.

 

He had no one else.

 

After an hour of searching Peter was getting a bit frantic, it had rained in the last two hours. Any scent the boy left behind had been washed away.

 

It was the first rain in August.

 

The four men were standing around one another, huffing as they tried to catch their breath. It wasn't often they got winded, but with how hard they had been running in the last hour it wasn't all that hard to believe.

 

“Where could he have gone?” Scott asked his big brown puppy eyes sad.

 

Scott had a soft spot a mile wide for Stiles. Even when the boy had accidentally broken his new X-box he hadn't gotten mad. Just laughed it off and told Stiles it was okay. Stiles cried for thirty minutes.

 

He still smelt of guilt from time to time when Scott was close.

 

“He wouldn't...” Isaac bit his lip. “He wouldn't try to go back to his old house would he? After eight years? Does he even remember where it is? He was a kid at the time.”

 

At the blondes words they heard it. The sad screams of a fox. Peter was moving before he realized it.

 

He did go home, just not to a house.

 

He went to the brush pile he had been living in as a fox. Peter was pissed at himself for not checking there sooner.

 

When Peter and the others finally found him the sight was heartbreaking.

 

Stiles.

 

His snow bound fox was crying. Curled up tight to where his parents bones once were. His tails were tucked tightly around his small frame. His paws, scratching at the ground as if that would help him find something that was removed months ago.

 

Peter couldn't even smell the bones anymore, washed away by the rain.

 

That's when Peter realized why the boy had ran. He had spent the last eight years resting over his parents remains protecting them from rain and snow.

 

He hadn't been here to do it when the first rain hit.

 

He couldn't protect them anymore.

 

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

When Talia got home she could feel the heaviness in the house. The deep pungent smell of loss thick in the cool air.

 

She found her husband, Scott and Isaac sitting at the kitchen table frowning down at the wood like it would solve whatever it was that was bothering them.

 

She kissed her husbands cheek. “What's wrong honey?”

 

James blinked up at his wife his eyebrows pulling down into a deeper frown. “Stiles ran off today.”

 

Talia's heart jumped in her chest, then soothed when James continued. “It took us hours because the ran washed away his scent but we found him.”

 

Isaac made a choking sob, Scott reached out a hand to ruffle his hair in comfort.

 

“He was looking for his parents remains, Peter thinks its because of the rain is why he left.” James sighed. “I believe him, he spent how many years out there? Only his small body covering them from anything that could wash away what was left of them.”

 

“He was in his fox shift, have you ever heard a fox cry? I don't think I want to hear anything as sad as that again.”

 

Scott whined. “He cried the whole way back, Peter carried him because he refused to get up. Now he won't shift back. Or he wouldn't the last time we checked.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Talia founds herself in front to Peters door before she even realized she moved up the stairs. She doesn't knock, she knows sudden sounds scare Stiles still. She simply pushes the door open and pokes her head inside.

 

The first thing she hears is the crying of a fox, and true to her husbands words. It's horribly sad, and not just because of the sound. Because it was a boy, a child of the age of seventeen crying about parents he lost years ago.

 

Crying because he could no longer protect their remain.

 

He knew now, that he was all alone where bloodlines were concerned.

 

But he had Peter. That Talia knew, even if the boy didn't yet.

 

Her brother was laying on his stomach on the floor. Half under the bed, nothing but his legs and feet in view. She knew he knew she was here but he kept speaking, voice quite and slow. Coxing, hoping to get the boy to get out of his hole.

 

He hadn't slept under there in over a month. No one wanted him to back track.

 

“Come here sweetheart.” Peter's voice always took on a tone she never heard before. It was sweet and loving. She witnessed it the first night the boy was here. Nothing more then a scared fox he found in the woods.

 

Stiles cries grow louder.

 

“Baby, come here.” There was a shuffling from under the bed, as if Stiles had moved a bit closer towards Peter.

 

Then Peter was talking, a steam of words she thought she would ever get to hear without forcing it out of him.

 

“I know it's scary, watching someone you love die. It makes your heart pound and your fear spike so high you feel like your drowning, and no matter how much you struggle you just can't breathe past that fear.” Talia had to sit, her heart was already pounding in her chest.

 

“I know what it's like to not be able to protect the ones you love.” Talia would never admit it to Peter or anyone, but listening to her little brothers voice break nearly killed her.

 

Peter was the bravest person she knew, he was prideful and strong. She knew he hated to show weakness.

 

She never felt more humbled now then she ever did, to know he was letting her listen in.

 

“You don't need to protect them anymore, and god sweetheart, I know that hurts. And you may not understand yet, but they can't be hurt anymore.”

 

Peter huffed a breathe from under the bed as if he was fitting the urge to cry. “You kept them safe for eight years, it's time for you to let someone take care of you.”

 

“It's going to hurt for the rest of your life but it will fade some, that pain. The memories will linger the good and the bad ones, but I promise. It will be okay.”

 

There was a sob then, from human vocal cords. “I m-miss them.”

 

Talia held her breathe. Other then a name here and there and small broken words, Stiles didn't talk. His mind trying to work out the kinks of using his voice again.

 

“I miss them Peter.”

 

“Oh sweetheart, I know baby. I know.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Stiles took up hiding in Peter's room for a month after he ran off. Talia and the others could hear him crying on the days Peter was at work. The door always left open so someone could keep an ear out for him.

 

Broken sobs that seemed to choke him.

 

Two weeks into his hiding Scott couldn't take him crying alone anymore. He didn't ask or even care, he simply slid under the bed with Stiles and held him while he cried. When the boy exhausted himself he would pull him out and tuck him into bed.

 

September brought new problems.

 

Someone had come looking for Stiles. The force his father once worked for sending child services.

 

The first time they showed up Talia had to kept the boy from shifting. He shook and cried, holding onto her so tightly he would have broken bones if she wasn't a werewolf.

 

She didn't mind, because finally the boy was warming up to them. Finally he was feeling safe, and now someone was trying to take that from him.

 

Peter had been furious once he showed up, luckily after they left with the promise to return.

 

Stiles was in a full blown panic attack when her brother came rushing through the door. The teen had his back pressed against the wall in the living room. His chest heaving, tears running down his face.

 

Screaming over and over again that they would take him away.

 

Peter promised he wouldn't allow it.

 

Talia knew he would keep that promise.

 

Because there was no way her little brother was going to let someone take his mate.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

There constant visits at first set the boy into a fit of panic. It took two weeks for him to get use to the always showing up unannounced.

 

In October they came again with news no one was expecting.

 

“We will be removing Mr. Stilinski from your care. After observing him for so long we think its best if he was put into a home. The boy just isn't mentally capable enough to be inflected on anyone.”

 

Talia and James had to physically restrain Peter from slaughtering the humans.

 

“What the hell do you mean he's not mentally capable?” Talia too was curious to what they meant. Stiles bless his heart sat to the left of James back straight sneering as well as Peter could.

 

“Every time we have come to see him he has a mental break down. That is not safe for him or anyone around him. We think its best if he is around someone who knows how to handle such situations.”

 

“The only ones here not mentally capable are you idiots.”

 

Everyone froze, all eyes swinging to Stiles. The boy who spoke in broke speech two months ago just sassed so hard even he seemed slightly surprised.

 

His words flowed so easily you would have never known he couldn't speak a few months ago.

 

“You can't barge into someones life and expect them to not get panicked. I was living in the woods for years alone after I watched my parents get murdered. What the hell did you expect me to do?”

 

Peter smiled with pride, he relaxed in Talia's hold.

 

The boy may not have spoken in all those years but he learned fast. If he speech was anything to go by. Talia didn't know if it was unfortunate or not yet that the boy was just as sarcastic as Peter.

 

“You can speak?” The older male in front of them pushed his glasses up his nose.

 

“No shit I can speak.” No one corrected his language. Not that Peter would anyways.

 

“You never spoken to us before.” The women to the left glared at the boy, like it would somehow help them if they show him who was in charge.

 

The Hale pack adults new better, because even when he hadn't spoken a word no one took charge of Stiles unless he allowed it.

 

“That's because I don't like you.” Stiles deadpanned. Talia felt her brothers shoulders shake beside her in a silent laugh.

 

“You're still under age Mr. Stilinski, you don't have much choice in the matter.”

 

Stiles smiled, just a small upturn of his lips but it looked so deadly Talia almost shrank back like the human's in front of them. Slowly the boy stood to his feet, hands flat on the coffee table as he leaned towards them, his eyes suddenly burning white. The CPS agents gasped falling backwards against the couch.

 

“You will leave, and after you leave you will write up your report stating that you have signed over rights to Mrs. Talia Hale and her lovely husband James.” The humans seemed to be in some type of daze. “Then you are never to step foot on this property again.” The boy tilted his head to the side. “Are we clear?”

 

“Yes sir.” The humans stood almost mechanically leaving the room and out the door without asking any question. Without even wondering what type of beings they were.

 

Everyone still left in the room watched Stiles in wonder.

 

He turned then eyes still blazed white, he blinked once the pretty honey color flowing back before he swayed on his feet.

 

His slow decent to the floor seemed to snap Peter out of whatever trance they had been in. He carefully swung the boy into his arms.

 

“Is he alright?”

 

“What the hell was that?” Talia quickly turned shocked to find most of her pack crowded in the large ache way that led to the kitchen. Eyes wide in wonder.

 

Peter blinked down at the boy. “I have no idea.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Deaton only had a theory on what happened to Stiles the day before. As he put it much to Peters displeasure the lunar fox part of the boy took charge. Almost like a split personality pushing the boy aside to handle the situation when it realized Stiles was in to much of a panic to do it himself.

 

It was apparently nothing to be concerned about because after that Stiles blossomed into something magnificent. His smile was bright, his words flowed on a constant stream that was almost dizzying.

 

Derek would scowl every time the boy went into a tangent on anything new he had learned.

 

Peter could always smell the happiness Derek secretly felt about the boy doing better.

 

Peter loved the sound of his voice, would allow him to talk nonstop till the early hours of the morning if he so felt inclined to do so.

 

He was brilliant.

 

A genius if you will. No matter what Peter throw his way the boy caught on so fast it gave Peter whiplash. So brilliant that all the teenagers in the house that had been going to school for years had fallen behind him in his studies.

 

Scott constantly complained about Stiles being scary smart.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Stiles studied so much Peter had to physically drag him out of the library to socialize. Which was almost laughable seeing as Peter himself was no social butterfly.

 

“You can't spend all your time in there sweetheart.” Peter said pushing the boy on the love-seat in the movie room.

 

The pack was currently filtering in for a movie night.

 

“But I like to read.” The boy said arms flailing around wildly with enthusiasm.

 

“Be that as it may, you can't spend all your time in there.” Stiles pouted.

 

Once everyone had settled it became a war on who got to chose the movie. Loud shouts and whines filled the room as everyone disagreed on every possible movie choice.

 

“Um, could we watch Star wars?” The room became quite making Stiles wiggle under the stares. He had never requested a movie before.

 

“Star wars?” Scott asked looking over at his friend.

 

“Uh, yea... my.. it was...” The boy seemed to be at a loss for words. “It was my favorite as a kid, um you know before.” He waved his hand in front of his face as if that would brush the bad memories away.

 

Peter was sure if he listened close enough he could hear hearts breaking.

 

No one could deny him.

 

Christmas was always mayhem in the Hale house, with a pack as big as theirs it was no surprise. With over thirty mouths to feed and get gifts for it always turned into a mess. No one mind this year because Stiles was glowing with wonder.

 

All the people, presents and food even the mess. It was worth it to listen to him laugh, you could see it sometimes when he crumbled into himself. He would still hide on occasions when he got to overwhelmed or memories haunted him.

 

It was less frequently then before, but it was still hard to watch.

 

When the night ended Stiles ended up with the biggest stalk pile of gifts. From a laptop to a tablet. A cell phone and Ipod. He had a stalk pile of clothes that Peter had no room for in their room. The stake of books was almost as tall as him.

 

Peter knocked down a wall the next day to build a bigger closet.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The new school year brought on fear so wild Peter thought the boy would explode. He was currently pacing in front of the stairs waiting for the others to come down to leave for class.

 

Stiles had to take a test to be put in senior year, one he passed with flying colors but that didn't seem to help his anxiety. It wasn't the work he was afraid of, it was the people. He still didn't leave the house often, he would go grocery shopping on occasion with James and Talia or to the library with Peter. But he had always been with in range of the three adults he trusted most.

 

Now though he had to leave without them.

 

“You'll be okay love.” Peter cupped his cheek rubbing softly against his pale skin.

 

“What if I mess up?”

 

Peter cocked an eyebrow. “Mess up how?”

 

He waved his arms wildly. “You know what if I accidentally shift in class, or use my powers or I don't know fall on my damn face in front of hundreds of asshole teenagers! I was picked on in school for my name as a kid I don't want a repeat of that Peter!”

 

The wolf smiled. “If anyone give you any trouble let me know, I'll deal with it.”

 

Stiles scowled. “You can't kill a teenager because they bully me Peter.”

 

Peter chuckled. “I wouldn't kill them little one, just maim them a bit.”

 

The boy smiled in return. “No maiming either Peter.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Stiles heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't know why he had decided he wanted to go to high school, but as far as he could tell it was a big fucking mistake on his part.

 

It was too loud, the halls to packed and people kept staring at him. He could feel eyes on his back as he walked. Could hear the whispers of students.

 

Apparently the whole town knew about the boy found in the woods.

 

And if that didn't just chap his ass he didn't know what else would. He didn't much like being the center of attention.

 

He wanted Peter and it was pathetic and childish but he wanted his wolf. He felt safe with Peter, he didn't feel safe here. First period had moved slowly, not a single pack mate was in his class, which okay he wasn't really expecting them to be but he had hoped.

 

Isaac and Scott were both in the same grade as him, so it was wishful thinking he would have them in his class.

 

Maybe they still would be, it was only first period after all.

 

Second period wasn't any better, again he found himself alone with a group of People he didn't know. Some big jock kept turning in his seat to sneer at him, why he didn't know. His name was Jackson, Stiles started thinking of him as jackass.

 

What could he say? He didn't like how the teen was looking at him.

 

He sighed happily when he got to period three, both Scott and Isaac were here. Both seated in the back and to Stiles great pleasure there was an empty seat just behind them. He quickly slid into it, almost sinking into himself with how relieved he was.

 

“Hey buddy how's your first day going?” Scott's voice calmed him even more then seeing him did.

 

Stiles shrugged. “Everyone is talking about me, I made my teacher in the last class look like an idiot correcting her and apparently just my presents alone has put me in the sights of one Jackson Whittemore.”

 

Isaac frowned. “Did he touch you?”

 

Stiles shook his head. “No just kept up the glare game all period. I mean seriously I didn't even talk to the guy once, I don't understand what his problem is.”

 

“It's because you're getting attention. He's the type that likes the spot light and with you here all knew and shiny he's not getting the praise he thinks he deserves.”

 

“Typical rich bully.” Scott tacked on.

 

Stiles huffed a laugh. “He does know that everything people are saying about me is awful right?

 

This caused both boys in front of him to frown. “Sorry Stiles, we tried to squash the rumors before you got here but it didn't work out so well.”

 

Stiles shrugged, trying to pull off the whole... I don't give a fuck vibe but by the looks of his pack mates it was a far cry from what he had done.

 

“Look at it this way, Erica and Boyd should be back from Germany tonight so you'll have two more pack-mates to have your back in school tomorrow.” Scott did always look at the bright side of things.

 

It was a trait that sometimes bothered Stiles.

 

The bell rang signaling the start of class. The man that wondered into the room dropped a stack of book so hard on his desk it made Stiles flinch.

 

“Where's the new kid?” Stiles twitched in his seat, slowly raising his hand to make himself known.

 

“Mister.” The guy frowned down at his name. “Stilinski, don't think just because you were some wild dirty child living in the woods for eight years means you'll get a pass for stupidity in my class.”

 

Low murmurs and quit laughs from his new classmates filtered through the air at Mr. Harris words. Stiles sank down into his seat.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Scott growled in front of him. Issac wiggled nervously. “What kind of crap introduction is that?” Scott snapped, shocked Stiles and by the look on the teachers face him as well.

 

“Do you have something to say Mr. McCall?” This guys sneer game was just as good as jackasses.

 

“I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't. You could be a little more delicate in the matter, and on another note Stiles is a genius. If you would have bothered to look at his test scores.”

 

Stiles has heard of someone going red in the face while in a rage, but Mr. Harris was practically purple.

 

“Detention McCall, and I saw his scores but even an idiot can cheat.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter was not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but when Stiles, Issac and Scott came home early with his fox in tow eyes red rimmed from crying. Well no one was stupid enough to give him lip when he put his fist through the microwave door.

 

With all his coxing and soothing words to calm Stiles before school it would seem it wasn't a student the teen had to worry about.

 

Now he stood in the principles office with his sister and brother in law in tow, waiting for the bastard who had upset his mate to get there.

 

The headmaster was practically shaking in his chair as Peter glared over at him, he had refused to sit. Taking up the space beside his sisters chair, arms crossed. Clawed hands held tightly against his sides.

 

He was all predator in this moment.

 

The bastard didn't even knock on the door before he entered. He gave the Hale's a side glance as he rounded the desk to stand next to his boss.

 

“You wanted to see me sir?”

 

Peter cuffed annoyed at the mans flippant tone.

 

“Yes, The Hales wanted a word with you. They are Stiles Stilinski's caretakers until he's eighteen.”

 

“Of course, are you hear to talk about the fact that two of the kids in your care walked out of my class today? You are Issac Lahey's adoptive parents are you not?”

 

“My husband and I are yes, but we are not hear to discuss Issac. We are here on behalf of Stiles.” Talia's voice was frosty. Harris didn't seem to notice, or he was to stupid to care.

 

“Is he already having problems with the curriculum? If that's the case I don't prioritize my work around a struggling student. If he is finding it difficult on his first day, maybe he should be moved to the remedial classes.”

 

If Peter's blood wasn't boiling before he got here is certainly was now.

 

“He don't need remedial classes, you fool of a man. Stiles can do college level chemistry. Hell the boy could probably go work in a lab now and out shine his seniors. We are here because you found the need to not only shame him in front of his new classmates, but then continued on speaking poorly of him after another student stuck up for him.”

 

Peter took a threatening step forward.

 

“Do you enjoy tearing down your students? Making them feel low as dirty on the ground, do you enjoy the fact that you made Stiles cry? Because honestly if you answer wrong.” Peter was inches from the mans face now he's mouth disgustingly close to the humans ear. He could smell the mans fear, he could practically taste it.

 

His sister did nothing to stop him.

 

“I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands and watch you choke to death on your blood.” Peter didn't make it a habit to threaten people. At least not ones that were no real threat to his pack physically, but this man had hurt his mate.

 

And that would never be tolerated.

 

The man sputtered, seemingly choking on his own spit as he tried to come up with some type of reply.

 

He had none.

 

That was the only thing that save him from Peter's claws.

 

“N-Now. Um Mr. Hale, I know you are upset but I can't allow you to threaten my teachers.”

 

Peter took his spot back next to his sister.

 

“Of course, then how about this. If I hear about anything like this happening again about any one our kids, you will be hearing from my law firm. I will not tolerate a teacher harassing Stiles or anyone of the other few he has in his class. That includes McCall.”

 

“That won't be necessary, Please I will deal with the matter accordingly.”

 

Satisfied they left.

 

He hadn't killed anyone, so Peter was calling that a win.

 

Plus the pungent smell of piss coming from Harris was just the icing on the cake.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

To be continued.


	2. Mending Souls

The night when Erica and Boyd got home from the airport Stiles hid in their room under the bed. No amount of coxing could get him out. He's curled tight in his fox form.

 

 Peter shifts before crawling under the bed with him.

 

 In seconds he has a tiny ball of white fur pressing under his neck. The poor pup shaking uncontrollably, Peter isn't quite sure why but he's sure it has to do with the new additions back in the house.

 

 Erica is loud, while Boyd was a solid pillar of silence that moved like a shadow through the house. After only being out of the woods for almost a year, things that throw off the packs normal routine stressed Stiles.

 

Routines kept him focused, calm and when someone or something derailed that routine his first thought is to hide.

 

Peter and Talia were in the process of looking for a therapist who knew about the supernatural. Someone other then Deaton's sister of course. They had tried that already, Stiles had bit her. She refused to step foot on Hale property again.

 

Peter had listen to Talia laugh in her office for ten minutes straight after the woman stomped out of the house.

 

Peter can't talk to Stiles in this form, and that wasn't always a good thing when Stiles was in one of these moods. But he took so much comfort from having Peter's wolf form wrapped around him that the older man couldn't deny him.

 

A knock at the door makes Stiles jump and whine.

 

Peter doesn't bother growling a warning, they wouldn't hear it behind the sound proof walls. So when Erica comes barreling into their room Peter shoots from under the bed with a snarl.

“Jesus Christ Peter, what the hell?” Erica yells kicking out at the angry wolf as he snaps at her ankle.

 

Stiles cuffs loudly under the bed, the fox wailing loudly.

 

Their Alpha snarled from the door way making everyone but the scared fox under the bed snap to attention.

 

“Erica, I told you not to come in here.” Talia's voice was icy with disappointment.

 

“I just wanted to see the fox!” Erica whines with a pout, like it would help her cause. In most cases it would, Talia had a soft spot for the girl since she had changed her, but if there was one person Talia would not tolerate being upset, it was Stiles.

 

“He's still adjusting, we've thrown off his routine enough tonight without you barging into his and Peter's room. You're stressing him out.”

 

“It's been almost a year!” The girl cries. Peter snaps his jaw with annoyance. A year was nothing compared to the hell he lived through. Stiles could take as long as he needed. Peter was pissed Erica didn't realize that.

 

Stiles gives a chirped whine from under the bed, followed by the sound of very human vocal cords gagging before the smell vomit hits the air.

 

Erica grimaces before covering her nose. Peter shifts cursing as he quickly pulls on a pair of sweats before leaning down to reach under the bed.

 

Stiles is in a full blown panic attack by the time Peter pulls him from under the bed.

 

The kid is gagging and gasping for breath, a choked cry caught in his throat as he claws at Peter's arms with blunt human nails.

 

“Shhh, Sweetheart. You're okay. You're okay.” He places the fox in his lap stroking his sweat damp hair. His skin is cool to the touch.

 

“Erica get out.” The teen rushes from the room so fast she nearly trips over her own feet in her haste.

 

Stiles screams before Talia can snap the door shut behind her. Scott gives a cried howl from down stairs.

 

“I need you to take a deep breath for me baby.” Peter is rocking the boy in his arms, trying to sooth him as much as he can. It had been almost two months since Stiles has had a panic attack this bad. Peter didn't want this one to end in him passing out like the last.

 

As far as Stiles had come Peter sometimes forgot how broken he really was.

 

Stiles gags on his inhale, violently vomiting down his front and both their laps. Peter silently curses before scooping the boy up against his chest to head to the shower.

 

The warm water and Peter's quite words finally calm the boy after awhile. Once dry Peter dresses them both and moves the now sleeping Stiles into his sisters bed before crashing into the living room.

 

He points at Erica. “You get the privilege of cleaning up the vomit from under our bed and the floor.”

 

Erica pouts. “I didn't mean for him to do that.” Her words are sincere but Peter has had enough of peoples bullshit for the day that he doesn't care. After the shit storm that was Stiles first day of school and now this. The beta was ready to make heads roll.

 

“Be that as it may, you disregarded your Alpha's words, stomped into my room and sent my mate into such a panic he almost choked to death on his own vomit.” Peter took a breath to calm himself. “You can't do such a thing with him, he doesn't know you. He had a shitty day before you arrived and was already on edge, you can not treat him like you would the rest of us until he is comfortable around you.”

 

Talia and the others silently listen on, no one stops him and no one would dare to try. Peter will not take anyone's shit when it come to Stiles and his welfare.

 

Boyd is frowning over towards his mate as she stands to head upstairs to clean his room.

 

“Stay away from Talia's room Erica.” Peter warns before the girl vanishes from view.

 

“Is he asleep in our bed?” James asks from the door way of the kitchen.

 

“Yes, yours was the closest to the living room. I wanted to be able to hear him if he wakes up.” Plus the scent of Alpha would be just as calming to the scared fox.

 

Talia sighs. “How is he?”

 

“It took me nearly an hour to calm him. He puked three time, luckily we were in the shower for the last bout.”

 

“He's been really upset since school today.” Isaac whispers from his spot curled up next to Scott. Melissa was working the night shift at work today. Those days Scott would stay with the Hales.

 

No one minded of course, they had plenty of room. Plus the boy was here so much he might as well be living with them.

 

“He probably won't be joining you for class tomorrow. Get his work for him.”

 

“Is he even going to want to go back? Today was the worst, Isaac and I had to practically carry him out of the room he was crying so hard.”

 

Peter snarled, before he bit the inside of his mouth to calm himself. “If he doesn't want to go back I won't make him. He can take a test for his diploma at home, he doesn't actually need to attend school at all to be honest he's so far ahead it's more of a waste of time.”

 

“The interaction with others outside of Pack is good for him though.” James argues.

 

Scott grumbles. “I don't know if that's actually true. The rumors going around the school about him are terrible. Jackson Whittmore has already set his sights on him and Harris ruined any warm feelings he may have had about school only three hours in.”

 

“We'll let him try again Wednesday, if something happens again I'll go pull him from school.” Talia narrowed her eyes. “And if that Whittemore kid tries anything let me know immediately, same goes for Harris.”

 

“Yes ma'am.”

 

Talia smiles. “You boys go get ready for bed.” Isaac and Scott rush off with a wave goodnight.

 

Body shift in his seat eyes on Peter. “Erica and I have only heard bits and pieces about Stiles over the phone or through video chats, is he dangerous?”

 

James gave a barked laugh. “That boy is as dangerous as a butterfly.”

 

“Butterflies eat the flesh off of dead beings.” Boyd deadpans.

 

James gave a feral smile. “Well you're no dead body, so I'd say your safe kid.” These are the moment when Peter remembers why he likes his sister's husband so much. The man had a wicked sense of humor on occasion.

 

His brother in law is suddenly serious. “He won't hurt Erica if that's what you are worried about.” James frowns. “Erica is more likely to hurt him then the other way around. We are going to have to speak to her about boundaries I hope you are aware of that. Not only is he easily stressed from his childhood but he is also an omega. It is bad for their health to get so strained.”

 

Boyd nodded his understanding. Erica chose that moment to return to the living room.

 

“I finished cleaning the room Peter.” Peter wanted to roll his eyes at the girls annoyed tone. Talia spoke before he could say anything.

 

“You two get to bed, tomorrow morning after the others leave for school I'll go over the guide lines on how to handle Stiles.”

 

Erica's eyes widened. “What? He needs his own set of rules for the pack to handle him?”

 

“Not handle him, they are for you, he doesn't need to be handled. He needs to be kept from stressing out. It's not Stiles who is the problem here, this pack isn't big on manners on the best of days and you sweetie are not known for your gentleness.”

 

Erica opened her mouth to argue but a warning growl from Talia had her mouth snapping shut. “I'm not going to play this game with you, it took us ten months to get Stiles to where he is now. It's not perfect and he isn't as easily thrown into a panic as he once was but; he is part of this pack now and everyone in it will treat him like he deserves to be treated. No argument or hissy fit you throw or anyone else for that matter will change my mind.”

 

“We didn't get special treatments.” Peter wanted to smack the girl in that moment.

 

“You did not come into this pack after watching your parents get murdered at the young age of nine, then live like a wild animal in the woods alone for eight years. It was easy with you and Boyd, you had no trauma. I changed you because you were sick and Derek wanted to help you. I changed Boyd because he was alone besides his grandmother. Isaac got special treatment because he had an abusive father. I'm not picking favorites here. I'm handling each of you with how I know you needed to be handled.”

 

“Yes ma'am.”

 

Talia sighed before smiling. “Thank you, now get to bed I'll see you two in the morning.”

 

Peter made his way to the couch and sat, stretching soreness out of his back and neck. He waited to be sure no one was in ear shot before speaking.

 

“I care about that girl Talia, but if she disregards the rules after she is given them I won't be responsible for my actions.”

 

“I understand Peter, don't worry. If she doesn't follow the rules I'll deal with it. I'm sure I can come up with something she would loath as punishment.”

 

“If she does something we can send her to help my brother on the pig farm.” James's smile was impossibly wide.

 

Peter gave a barked laugh. “Laura cried for two days after you sent her there when she kept punching out kids at school.”

 

Talia laughed. “She also stunk of swine and blood for a week. I don't know if I could handle that smell again, but if it worked on Laura it will work on Erica no problem.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles was still sleeping when Peter made his way to the kitchen for breakfast the following morning. A horde of half awake teens littering the table. Talia was getting on to Cora about eating with her head laying down on the table when Peter walked in.

 

If Peter saw his niece give her mother the bird, he didn't mention it.

 

He like a kid that rebelled a little bit, at least in situations like this.

 

“Mom, can I skip school too?” Cora asked picking at her bagel.

 

“No, your grades have dropped, and if you don't get them up I'll be removing you from the basketball team faster then you can blink.”

 

Cora's head shot up from the table. “How did you know about my grades!?”

 

Talia gave a laugh. “I know everything dear. Now finish your breakfast before you're late for class.”

 

“Now I know what Laura meant when she says she couldn't get anything past you.” Cora grumbled.

 

“I also know you let the air out of the tires of you math teachers car.” Talia's eyes cut towards her daughter. “If I find out you did anything like that again you won't like what I do.”

 

“Yes ma'am” Cora left the kitchen so fast she left a smoke trail. Scott and Isaac laughed as they followed her out the door.

 

Peter grabbed himself a cup of coffee before sitting himself at the bar.

 

Little happy giggles filtered into the room as James came carrying a wiggling Jamie into the kitchen.

 

“Good morning mommy.” Talia smiled brightly.

 

“Good morning baby.” The boy smiled brightly as his mother kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Are you all ready for school today?”

 

Jamie nodded his head so wildly it was a miracle his head didn't fall off his shoulders.

 

“Ms. Mason is letting us do show and tale today. I'm taking Tank with me.”

 

“I already called ahead and asked if pet's were allowed.” James added, helping himself to a cup of coffee as well.

 

“Make sure you take care of him while at school. Don't let anyone take him out of his cage and remind your friends they can not put their fingers in his cage. Just because he's a turtle doesn't mean he doesn't bite.”

 

“Yes mama.”

 

Talia ruffled his hair. “Good boy, have a nice day sweetie.”

 

“Bye mama, by Uncle Peter.”

 

Peter waved while sipping at his coffee. He had already called his office to inform them he wouldn't be present today, so he had no real reason to be up so early, but his internal clock was already wired for early mornings.

 

“How did Stiles sleep last night?”

 

Peter glanced up at his sister. “Not well, he doesn't sleep great on the best of nights but after the crap with the school then the panic attack he spent most of the night tossing and turning. I woke twice to find him hiding under the bed in a mess of blankets and pillows crying.”

 

“He still doesn't wake you when he's upset?”

 

“In all the months he's been here he's only woken me once on his own freewill. That was the night he though someone had came throw the window and slit my throat while we slept.”

 

Talia shuddered. Everyone remembered that night all to well. Even the sound proof walls hadn't been able to hide all of his screams.

 

“He knows though that he can wake you, I don't understand why he doesn't.”

 

“I'm sure it's because he thinks he's a burden. I caught him once mumbling to himself about being inflicted on us. I corrected him of course, but that kid has no self-esteem what so ever.”

 

“Well he's an omega, they need a lot of praise and gentle handling as a child to build those safe walls in their minds. They need to feel like they are wanted, loved and needed. I'm sure he got it the first nine years of his life but after that he was alone. That's a lot of time that wasn't spent where he wasn't nurtured and cared for.”

 

“Don't forget having to watch his parents being violently slaughtered.”

 

“No one can forget that Peter.”

 

Peter rinsed his cup in the sink. Omega's were such a rarity it was hard to find the right texts to learn what was needed for them. Peter had a few as did Deaton, but there had never been an omega in the Hale pack before Stiles so they didn't dwell to much on not knowing those things. Peter would have to dig out those books are read through them again.

 

“I'm going to wake Erica and Boyd soon if you wanted to sit in on our conversation.”

 

Peter nodded his understanding.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter checked in on Stiles before he jumped in the shower. The boy was still curled up in the middle of their king sized bed sleeping peacefully, finally, after a rough night that Peter didn't have the heart to wake him.

 

He missed out on enough hours of sleep as it was, he needed all he could get when he could get it.

 

By the time he was dressed and ready for the day Erica and Boyd had already been taken to the kitchen and fed breakfast. James had returned at some point to and was now seated next to his wife. Erica looked cranky, she always was when woken up. Boyd was his normal stoic self. A large wall of calm that Peter was sure Stiles would like once he warmed up to him.

 

After he got use to the teens silence first.

 

Peter took the seat to the left of his sister, eyes scanning the two kids in front of them. Germany had been good to them it seemed. They had a healthy glow to their skin, they seemed to be in better control of their wolves then when they had left for the year to study with Alpha Rankin.

 

It was a good call on Talia's part, the Hale pack was large and taking on two new wolves while dealing with such large numbers it had been hard to teach them the control they needed. Peter was glad sending them off had helped so much.

 

“Before we get started I want you to know you two got it easy. We had to learn this as we went, you are getting everything you need to know handed to you on a silver platter. So keep the arguments to a minimum. I will listen to what you have to say of course, but remember this isn't about you this is about Stiles.”

 

“Yes Alpha.”

 

Talia nodded before tilting her head towards Peter. “Do you want to start, he is your Mate and you do know him the best.” Talia asked.

 

Peter jumped right in. “Never and I mean never for any reason knock on my bedroom door, if the door is closed you stay out. It's that simple, Stiles doesn't handle sudden loud noise's well, by all accounts that room is his den and you will not step into it unless he says otherwise. The only ones that have free range to come and go as they please during the day is myself, Talia, James, Scott and Isaac.”

 

“Why Isaac and Scott?”

 

“Stiles feels protected around them, Scott is easy going and knows Stiles social cues to a T. Isaac was the first one besides myself that Stiles bonded with, Isaac knows fear, he also knows how to handle it when Stiles gets worked into a panic.”

 

Peter powered on. “Next, do not sneak up behind him, not as a joke or as a way to encourage play. He won't strike out to harm you but he might if scared enough snap his teeth at you, sneaking up on him only results in him falling into a panic attack. If he does for some reason attack you after you scared him, the only one going to be punished is you. He's still working solely on instinct most of the time. Fight or flight, he sticks to flight most of the time but I don't want you to be the exception.”

 

“Has he ever attacked a pack mate?”

 

Talia answered. “No, he hasn't harmed anyone except for a therapist we brought in, Deaton's sister. He bit her after she kept pushing him to speak.”

 

Erica gave a startled laugh before quickly covering it up with a cough.

 

“Okay moving on, if he is eating do not reach near him or around his food. He went hungry A long time he still eats with his arm curled around his plate to protect it. Again he's never attacked anyone but he gets definitive when food is involved then he feels guilty after, he doesn't need that guilt.”

 

“I'm sorry but I feel like we are talking about a rabid dog here. This doesn't seem like guide lines for a traumatize kid, it sounds like the crap a vet would tell you after you picked up a stray.”

 

Peter snarled, the sound bounced off the walls. Erica flinched at the sound. “Eight years Erica, nine years old all the way to the age of seventeen. He had no human interaction, no real food, a place to sleep that was safe or anyone to take care of him. He slept on his parents bones. How do you think you would fare in that situation?”

 

Erica sighed. “I just don't understand why he didn't find help after his parents died. He didn't have to stay in those woods.”

 

“He was traumatize, strangers came into his home. Shot at them, chased them two counties over, that's four hundred miles of forest they ran through. If his father didn't trust the people in that town to help them why would a scared nine year old trust anyone. It's likely after his parents died he hid until whom ever was hunting them left. He was probably to scared to leave and seek help, or hurt. There are a number of factors to take into account here. He could have had the thought of getting help but couldn't bare to leave his parents behind. It's likely he shifted in his fright and was to scared to change back.”

 

“He was nine, he did the only thing a frightened nine year old would do. He stayed close to his parents. You can't expect a nine year old to be rational with circumstances like that.” James added.

 

“I guess you have a point.”

 

“Guessing is all we can do about what happened in those wood. We know how his parents died, we know they ran. After that we don't know anything else, he won't talk about it and no one is going to make him talk about it.” Peter was firm with that warning, because if any of his pack tried to force Stiles to relive that day he would gut them where they stand.

 

“Okay, so no sneaking. Don't knock on the door to your room. Don't enter the room at all and stay way from his food. Is that all?”

 

“If he slips into a panic attack get Peter, Isaac knows how to help but most of the time they get so bad he losses consciousness. It put's to much stress on his heart as well, werefoxes don't heal like us. He won't bounce back as fast as we do.” Talia says,

 

“Don't touch him unless he touches you first. He's still touch starved but he doesn't like it when someone blindsides him. He suffers from a sensory over load easily. He's also deaf in his right ear, his hearing is still amazing but you will notice when someone is speaking he'll tilt his head to the right as to hear better. Since his hearing is a bit impaired his other scenes are twice as strong. Which doesn't help the sensory problem.” Maybe Peter sure write a guide line book for them. It would be easier in the long run.

 

“The last thing is when he is shifted do not touch him for any reason. He's been attack and mauled by mountain lions, probably shot at and hunted by damn poachers and god knows what else. So unless he physically crawls in your lap don't mess with him. The only ones who has gotten to touch him like that have been myself and Jamie.”

 

Peter sighed. “He's also sporting some pretty nasty scars. My scars and it pisses him off when someone stares at them so lets avoid that as well.”

 

“So it's true then.” Boyd asks. “He took the scars from the fire from you?”

 

“Yes, I don't have a mark on my skin that I wasn't born with. When he took them his skin looked like someone took a blowtorch to his flesh.” God Peter could still smell the chard skin. He swallowed.

 

“I can see you don't look as excited to meet him anymore.” Talia says after Peter had finally fallen silent.

 

“Well, it's just. Sorry, he seems like more trouble then its worth to be honest.”

 

Talia was up and restraining Peter before he even realized what was happening. The only thing that calmed him in that moment was the sound of Stiles heartbeat changing as he finally woke for the day. Peter was so used to staying homed in on the sound he could pick it up from miles away.

 

“I'm only going to say this once, Stiles is apart of this Pack. He is Peter's Mate and you will show him the respect you show everyone else here. He's terribly sweet, and kind. Just because he needs to be handled with a more delicate hand does not in anyway make him less of a person.”

 

Talia released Peter once she was sure he was calm. “Next time I won't hold him back, because anyone would react that way when someone talks so poorly of their Mate and you should know that.”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Erica.” James shook his head. “Don't apologize when you don't mean it, you've been a werewolf long enough to know, we know when you are lying. You'll see on your own how great a person Stiles is, and if you don't that's not anyone's loss but your own.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

He woke up alone, it wasn't the best feeling but he could hear Peter's heartbeat coming from the kitchen so he knew he hadn't been gone from the room for too long. The spot in the bed beside him was no longer warm but it still smelled so heavily of Peter that Stiles knew the man had probably only left the room over an hour and a half ago.

 

Stiles curled up in the thick black down blanket, content with just laying there soaking up the warmth.

 

There was four other heartbeats in the kitchen with his Peter. He could pick out Talia's and James, but the other two were new. The other pack mates from the night before. Erica and Boyd. Stiles shuddered.

 

The blonde girl scared him. She got to close, smelled to different. Talked to loud.

 

He knew he had no right to be upset by her, so he solidified himself with not being so. It was more her pack then it was his to begin with. He just had to get to know them and then he wouldn't feel so out of sorts.

 

Peter wanted him to work on stepping out of a routine and he was trying he really was. That's why he had made it a point to go to school, to broaden his life views but that had turned into a mess so fast he didn't know if he could handle going back.

 

Maybe he could talk to Peter later about it. He would never force Stiles to do anything he didn't want to, but he didn't want to disappoint him either.

 

He wanted Peter to be proud to call him his Mate.

 

No one wanted some broke excuse for a life partner.

 

“Are you hungry little love?” Stiles poked his head out from under the covers, smiling as his wolf slowly made his way towards the bed.

 

“I could eat.” Stiles could always eat. He was always hungry. Deaton said it would fade back to normal with time. His constant hunger.

 

Stiles didn't like Deaton, but he like his sister less. He hasn't had the displeasure of seeing the Jennifer girl for a while either, which pleased Stiles. He didn't like how she looked at Peter.

 

“Well sweetheart, crawl out of your dwelling and come down stairs. I'll make you some pancakes and you can meet Erica and Boyd. Properly this time.”

 

Those two names almost made Stiles refuse pancakes, but he was hungry and Peter looked so warm and inviting that he found himself crawling out of bed and towards the older man.

 

The teen attached himself to Peter's side as they made their way to the kitchen. Stiles couldn't hear voices from long distances but once on the second floor the muffled sound turned into a quite hum of voices talking lightly with one another.

 

Stiles anxiety climbed the closer they got, but Peter's warm hand on the small of his back kept him moving forward.

 

He blinked and suddenly he was standing in the kitchen. Peter easily pushing him into a chair next to Talia.

 

“Good morning Stiles.”

 

“Good morning Mrs. Talia.” The Alpha smiled brightly.

 

“Are you feeling better today?” James asked from his spot next to his wife. Derek looked a lot like his dad, deep green eyes and dark hair. Stiles could easily picture Derek into his late adulthood when he looked at James.

 

“Yes Sir.” It wasn't really a lie so his heart didn't give him away. He'd much rather be curled up in bed with a book but he knew it would be rude to the pack mates that had finally came home if he hid away.

 

Talia didn't like it when someone was rude.

 

Stiles stayed seated even though he wanted to run in that moment.

 

“Stiles, this is Erica and Boyd. I know you have heard about them from everyone here and they have heard a bit about you too. I hope you can all get along nicely.”

 

Stiles missed the cut look Talia throw Erica's way when Peter placed a plate with warm pancakes in front of him. He topped it with cool-whip and strawberries. No syrup. Stiles hated syrup.

 

The fox curled his arm around his plate without even thinking about it. He kept his bite small and chewed thoroughly before quickly placing another bite in his mouth. Humming happily he smiled over at Peter in thanks.

 

Peter's pancakes were Stiles favorite.

 

A glass of orange juice was placed to the left of him, he took a small sip to wash down the fluffy buttermilk goodness.

 

He glanced up when he realized he was being watched.

 

He wiggled in his chair, suddenly nervous. “Hi.”

 

The big guy nodded at him. The blonde narrowed her eyes but gave a small smile. “Hi Stiles, It's nice to meet you.”

 

Stiles frowned at the skip in her heartbeat. The foxes shoulders sagged, she didn't like him. She didn't want to meet him.

 

He straightened his back when he noticed Talia glance his way. He gave a small smile as to not worry her.

 

He turned towards Peter when he sat down beside him. “Do you have to work today Peter?”

 

“Not today sweetheart, why? Would you like to do something today?” A warmth started in Stiles chest at Peter's smile.

 

“Can we go to the market place today? They are having a sale of fresh strawberries and pineapples.”

 

He noticed Erica gave him a funny look from the corner of his eye. Stiles chose to ignore it, he didn't know why she didn't like him but he was choosing to not let it bother him. He had every right to be here as she did.

 

Right?

 

“Of course, we need some fresh vegetables anyways. Plus the fresh air will do you some good, your looking a bit pale there love.”

 

Stiles scowled. “I'm always pale, don't blame it on my lack of sunlight. I'm more likely to burn and turn bright red then turn a pretty golden color. Not everyone can have your sickly golden colored skin Peter.”

 

“My skin is lovely.”

 

“And your pride is nauseating.” Stiles shot back. He heard Talia laugh.

 

“You love it darling.”

 

Stiles giggled. “That has yet to be decided Peter.”

 

Warm lips touched his forehead. Stiles blushed. “Go put away your dishes then get ready for the day, if we don't hurry all the good strawberries will be gone.”

 

Stiles was moving before he even took notice.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles loved the market place, but he hated the crowds. He made it a point to stick close to Peter at all times. A finger curled around the man's belt loop as he walked. The thought of getting lost in all these people made him sick to his stomach.

 

The pair each held a back in their hands. Peter's held fresh tomatoes, cucumber and green chives. Stiles only held pineapples so far but as soon as they got to the right booth they would been stalking up on as many strawberries as they could get.

 

Stiles wanted to make a strawberry sponge cake, but he also wanted the fresh berries for a smoothie as well. He still had a bit of weight he needed to put on so he spent a lot of his time thinking of new things to try.

 

Peter was the one to suggest the smoothies. Stiles in turn spent two hours writing down as many recipes as he could.

 

They by passed the mango's, Stiles wasn't a fan of those but he paused when he saw the large shiny green apples. He could suddenly smell his moms homemade apple cinnamon pie. His vision blurred for a moment before he blinked away his tears.

 

“Peter.” Stiles winced at the break in his voice. “Can we get some apples too?”

 

“We can get whatever you like.” That was always Peter's answer. Sometimes Stiles wondered if he was spoiled. He had asked once but Peter said he was making up for all the things he had missed out on growing up alone.

 

Stiles couldn't argue with that logic.

 

“I...” Stiles bit his lip. “My mom use to make the best apple pie. I'd like to try to make it.” His eyes got misty again but he didn't blink away the tears this time. Not even when a women stopped to stare at him. Peter gave her a dirty look and she quickly moved along.

 

Peter's handsome face could go from godly beautiful to I'll murder you and steal your children while you sleep in one second flat. Stiles shouldn't find that appealing but he did.

 

He'd never admit that to Peter though. The man really didn't need any help in the ego department. He didn't need any help in any department to be fair. He was stupidly perfect.

 

“We can try to recreate the pie sweetheart, no problem.” Peter bought two dozen apples. In case they didn't get it right the first time, he said with a smile as they moved along.

 

Perfect.

 

Stiles hummed happily.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Every pie they made was a failure. With each one baked and sampled Stiles withered a little more. None of them taste right, not enough cinnamon, to much cinnamon. To much vanilla. They apples in that batch were to sour. Not enough flour, to much sugar.

 

Peter watched Stiles crumble in on himself with each one. He was a sobbing mess by the time everyone got home for the day. Talia's eyes were watery when Peter pulled Stiles to his chest and carried him upstairs to weep in private.

 

Stiles didn't come down for dinner. It was a quite affair. Someone would ask something every once in a while, or complement Talia on dinner but it was hard to enjoy it when they could hear the crying coming from upstairs.

 

Thirteen partially eaten pies sat on the bar. Peter wanted to bury them in a hole and set them on fire. And he was a man who wasn't fond of fire.

 

Six rinsed uncut apples sat in the skin.

 

“What was he trying to do?” Erica suddenly blurted out. “Waist food?”

 

Scott snarled from where he sat next to his mother who joined them for dinner before Peter could even work up the sound from his throat.

 

“He wanted to try to make a pie like his mom use to make.” Scott snapped, glaring at the girl from across the table. Melissa put a calming hand on his shoulder.

 

“Okay, I get that, but all he ended up doing was making a dozen pie's, waist two dozen apples and end up crying over it. That seems like a bit much for a dessert.”

 

“I don't think you would get it even if it came up and bit you on the ass.” Cora piped up from next to Peter. The older wolf chuckled but bit of the sound when Talia glared at him.

 

“Cora language.” She cut her eyes to Erica. “It doesn't matter what he was trying to do. It doesn't effect anyone and it wasn't your money that paid for the apples or anything else he used to try to make them. He wanted to eat something that reminded him of his mother. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Erica was smart enough to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the meal.

 

Stiles refused dinner. He had worked himself up so much he was sick to his stomach. Peter spent two hours trying to work the tension out of the straining muscles before the boy fell asleep.

 

Peter plotted while his little mate rested.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles skipped school the next day as well. Peter just smiled and kissed him on the head before heading to work and Talia told him he could try tomorrow.

 

He spent his first two hours awake doing all the homework Scott had brought home for him. The next hour he laid in bed reading, he knew he needed to get up and be an actual person at some point but he was tired.

 

The night before had plagued him with nightmares he wish he could forget. Haunting hands grabbing at him while he slept. His dad screaming for his mother to grab Stiles and run. The sounds of gunfire always echoed in his ears.

 

He could never forget the spray of blood on his skin when his father dropped to the ground. The sounds of his moms screams as she tried to drag her dead husband across the ground. The foot falls of their attackers always grew closer as Stiles begged his mom to keep going.

 

_To run. Don't leave him. Don't fight. Just Run._

 

In his dreams, she always stayed. Always fought. Always died. Just like that night. It never changed, it couldn't be altered even if he tried. He would scream as his mother was knocked to the forest floor and ax swung towards her neck.

 

Then he woke up. Alone with the weight of their deaths on his soul.

 

He'd thought about telling Peter once, what his nightmares were made of, but every time he tried to form the right words nothing came out.

 

Stiles could never understand, why in that moment after his father fell his mom didn't chose him. Why she didn't help him run. Why did she turn her back when he had screamed at her to _Just keep going_.

 

 _Please mama, just keep going_.

 

Stiles was crying before he even noticed. Silent tears falling onto the pages of his of his book. The words blurred and unreadable.

 

She didn't chose him, and sometimes, most times that hurt more then anything he had ever experienced.

 

What if Peter didn't chose him?

 

Stiles flung the book across the room before crawling under the bed. He knew it was childish to take refuge under a bed at his age. He knew he wasn't what anyone wanted or needed him to be. He was not the caring, nurturing omega that his DNA marked him as.

 

He was a ruined, scared being that most days didn't know where he belonged.

 

He loved the Hale's and the McCall's. He'd probably love Erica and Boyd too if they would let him, but no amount of loving someone would mean he was what they needed.

 

Stiles had researched omegas so much he knew what he was supposed to be backwards and forwards. He had read Peter's books when his wolf was at work. Had left notes in the margins, highlighted keep points.

 

He learned of heats and what that meant for him and for Peter. He had studied so much sex between two men that it was probably unhealthy.

 

None of that helped the anxiety. What if he failed? Would he even go into a heat with how broken he was? Could a male omega even do that? None of the books he read said anything on that, and what was on the internet could be from any weirdo behind a keyboard.

 

Stiles couldn't remember if his mother ever said anything on that matter. Maybe he had been to young at the time.

 

Stiles shook himself. He didn't need to worry about going into heat. It was likely it would never happen, and he was okay with that he supposed. He didn't want to turn into some wild sex manic for three days straight begging to be knotted.

 

Did werewolves even have a knot?

 

How could he even ask a question like that when Peter never even showed any interest in him in that way. Sure he got a kiss on the cheek or the forehead from time to time, but there was no touching other then Peter holding him.

 

Fully clothed of course.

 

Maybe he shouldn't worry about any of this at the moment. He had enough on his plate without sex and how Peter saw them.

 

Plus he really didn't need his dick to do any standing while he laid under a bed crying like a child.

 

He had been up for a solid four hours and the only thing he had done was a little homework and cried. And if that wasn't pathetic he didn't know what else was. Maybe if he took a nap he'd feel better when he woke up.

 

Then he could do something nice for the others. Like bake the strawberry sponge cake. Or a lava cake, Cora and Talia had a love affair with chocolate. He could do both, no one would complain if he did.

 

Stiles closed his eyes. Relaxing into the pile of blankets and pillows he kept under the bed. There was also a pile of Peter's shirts under here for him as well. The scent of his mate to calm him when he got overwhelmed.

 

He pressed a soft sweater to his face.

 

Peter smelled of warm chocolate and summer breezes. It made Stiles feel warm.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles woke to a child's laughter. Stiles started before calming, Peter's scent was stronger then it was before he went to sleep. His mate had left the door open after checking on Stiles.

 

The fox stretched. His arm brushed against something softy and fluffy. A quite purr suddenly filled the room. Eyes wide Stiles rolled to his stomach and came face to face with a snow white kitten.

 

A big pink bow tied around its neck. The kitten meowed before stretching to its tiny paws and making its was towards the boy. Stiles laughed when tiny paws tapped at his face. With gentle hands Stiles pulled the tiny body to his chest giving a purr of his own when the kitten rubbed against his cheek.

 

It's fur smelled slightly of Peter.

 

Stiles smiled. Crawling out from under the bed the boy stood then let out a loud laugh when he took the room in.

 

Dozens upon dozens of red spider Lily's in pretty emerald vases sat along the window, the side table by the small sofa and the night stands.

 

Stiles couldn't feel any more loved right that moment if he tried.

 

It helped sooth some of his anxiety, but in the back of his mind he still felt unsure. The kitten meowing pulled him from his thoughts.

 

Stiles homed in on Peter's heartbeat and followed.

 

He'd always follow that sound.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter heard Stiles wake, then the up kick in his heart when sounds registered. The kitten he had placed with his little mate while he slept meowed.

 

Stiles giggled. The smile on Peter's face pulled at muscles he hadn't used in ages.

 

Peter could feel the curious eyes at his back. The dining room was packed. His sister and her husband sat quietly watching. The teens looked confused and slightly worried at the eagerness Peter was feeling.

 

Derek and Laura kept whispering about his smile being creepy. Peter ignored the annoyed huff from Erica. He wasn't going to let her ruin his mood, because he had spent all day planning and dealing with jackasses.

 

But it was so worth it and it would be even more so when Stiles finally made his way into the kitchen.

 

Peter had called several times through out the day checking in with Taila. Stiles hadn't left the room, he hadn't ate and he spent a few hours crying. Peter wished he hadn't been so busy because there wasn't anything he hated more then his mate being alone and weeping.

 

The creak of the stairs pulled his attention towards the door. Twin purrs moved slowly down the curved staircase. The sweet scent of happy omega was mouth watering. It wasn't a smell Stiles had ever put off before and god did he love that he caused that lovely smell.

 

A sleep mused Stiles rounded the corner. Eyes wide and innocent clouded with slumber. His dark hair wild and soft against his face. His dear heart looked so much better then he did when he had found him curled up alone under the bed.

 

The kitten was held safely against his chest purring so happily that Peter found himself smiling again.

 

“She's beautiful.” A tender smile graced Stiles face. Those wide honey eyes shined as he glanced up at Peter.

 

His pale bare feet ate up the distance between them. The buzzer on the oven sounded. Stiles froze as he finally registered the tart scent in the air.

 

His pretty eyes filled with tears.

 

“Peter?”

 

Kissing his little mate on the forehead he pulled the freshly baked pie from the oven. Stiles breath hitched then broke. A plate already sat waiting on the now clean bar.

 

Peter placed a slice of warm gooey apple pie on the teal dish and pushed it towards the shocked boy. Taking the kitten Peter placed her on the ground by Stiles feet. Pale hands were already reaching for the fork when the wolf stood back up.

 

Peter was suddenly nervous.

 

Stiles took a bite after blowing on the dessert. His eyes grow impossibly wide. Then those pretty Crystal tears finally spilled over as Stiles launched himself at Peter.

 

“How?” Stiles cried into Peter's shirt. “How Peter?”

 

“I've been very busy today love.” Warm tanned fingers slid through those pretty dark locks. “It took me most of the day but I finally got a hold of the officer that was in charge of your families case.”

 

Peter grabbed a thick leather bound book off the top of the counter. Pulling Stiles back slowly he placed the book into the smaller hands.

 

“Oh god.” Stiles held the book tightly to his chest.

 

“Your fathers old partner put all of your families belongings in storage. After talking with him he took me there.” Peter tilted Stiles face up and towards him. “I got a moving truck to load everything and while we pack it in I found your mothers cookbook.”

 

“That's her pie.” Stiles whispered.

 

“Yes sweetheart, that's her pie.”

 

Carefully placing the book on the counter Stiles moved forward wrapping himself around the strong, wide warm chest. “Thank you, thank you.” Stiles laughed. “You are stupidly perfect.”

 

Peter smirked. “Of course I am love.”

 

Fingers tangled into the back of Peter's shirt. Stiles sniffed. “Love you.”

 

Warmth flooded Peter's chest. Someone from the dining room table let out a choked sob. Stiles had never told anyone he loved them before.

 

“I love you too sweetheart.”

 

The sound of a camera shutter made Stiles flinch. Laughing the boy pulled back whipping at his face.

 

“You really are stupidly amazing.”

 

“I know these things my heart, but I enjoy when you remind everyone of my great qualities.” Again Stiles giggled.

 

“I really shouldn't boost your ego so much.”

 

“You really shouldn't!” Laura cried from the table. The girls face was flushed red, eyes still slightly gleaming with tears.

 

Shaking his head Stiles stood on his toes to place a gentle kiss to Peter's cheek. A camera sounded again.

 

The boys lips were as soft as silk.

 

It was the first time Stiles had ever done such a thing.

 

Peter's skin tingled.

 

“Someone open a window, we need to air out all the suffocating scent of happy out.” Cora croaked out, waving a hand in front of her face. The smile on her face ruined the false annoyance in her voice.

 

 

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Erica will not be that way towards Stiles forever. She will love him.   
> Thank you for all the comments and Kudos.   
> I hope you enjoy.


	3. Bleeding hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advanced. For the drama, and the angst and my need to... well you'll see.  
> I had too.

 

Peter and the rest of the pack were sound asleep when Stiles slipped out of the room. The house was the perfect silence that Stiles thrived on. No voice to overwhelm him, no one mingling around to accidentally brush against him. Most days he's okay with that and it didn't bother him much but since he realized how pathetic he was for always having a panic attacks and hiding under beds being around others was harder then ever.

 

His weakness was drowning him.

 

How could they stand to be around him when they didn't know what set him off?

 

Peter did something wonderful for him and what did he go and do, freak out. He walked into that storage box with his family's belongings and lost his shit.

 

Memories he wished he didn't have flooded his mind when he first stepped into that metal box. The scent of his parents was still heavy on some items that it nearly choked him.

 

His mothers favorite blanket they would curl up in on the couch.

 

His dads jacket.

 

Stiles had thrown up twice after looking through the boxes.

 

Peter apologized for two days.

 

Then Stiles felt guilty. Peter worked so hard to get him those things and he had panicked so bad after smelling them that he woke up laying on the grass outside. Peter's blue eyes had been so devastated that Stiles wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

 

Peter had been tiptoeing around him since, and that hurt more then anything.

 

Stiles wish he wasn't the way he was. He wanted to be what Peter needed, what he wanted.

 

He wanted Peter smiling again like he was those two weeks ago when Stiles told him he loved him.

 

It had been so blindingly beautiful and now. Stiles ruined it.

 

Stiles slowly made his way down the stairs, feet quiet as to not wake anyone who might have had their door open. The kitchen was warm and inviting as the flicked on the lights for the day.

 

He already had his play in mind before everyone got up for their day. He would have breakfast made, lunches ready for anyone who needed one for the day. Backpacks were lined up and ready to be grabbed and taken.

 

Two weeks, it was slow going but he would do better. Be better.

 

When Peter and Talia strolled into the kitchen Stiles was placing the blueberry-Pecan pancake bread pudding on the counter and topping it with sweet homemade icing and fresh blueberries.

 

Talia inhaled, then sighed happily. This was the first time he woken up early enough to beat Talia to the kitchen. He had tried the night after Peter had gotten him his sweet kitten he had been so happy. He wanted to do something nice in return. For Peter, for Talia for every soul in this house who he was inflecting himself on.

 

“Thank smells fantastic Stiles.”

 

Stiles smiled. “There's fresh coffee and orange juice. The sausage will be done in the moment if you don't mind waiting.”

 

Peter tilted his head slightly before smiling. “You didn't have to go through so much trouble love.”

 

Stiles froze for a moment. Did Peter not want him to help? He glanced down at the breakfast he prepared. Was there something wrong with it? Was he not good enough to help? That's what omegas did right? They were helpful to packs, helped sooth and nurture their loved ones. All he did was stress out the ones he loved.

 

The fox shook himself from his thoughts. Peter was just worried, Peter was always worried about him. He didn't think Stiles needed to stress over making breakfast and preparing sack lunches or anything an omega was supposed to do.

 

His life was made to help and support others and he couldn't even do that.

 

“I just wanted to help out a bit?” Why did that sound so much like a question. Like he needed permission to do what his biology said he was required to do.

 

“That was nice of you sweetheart.” Peter quickly kissed his forehead before pulling down plates for the rest of the pack wandering into the kitchen.

 

“Oh my god.” Scott moaned. “What is that smell? I'm drooling on myself.”

 

Stiles smiled. “I made breakfast, lunches too. I also made sure everyone had their homework in their bags.”

 

Stiles cleaned his hands and whipped down the counters before taking his seat next to Peter at the table.

 

He could do this, he could be what they needed.

 

He wouldn't hurt Peter anymore with his behavior.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Peter would feel disgusted at the sounds his family was making as they devoured the warm gooey breakfast Stiles made but he was distracted by the boy beside him. Something was off with his little mate.

 

The meal was fantastic of course, warm with a slight crunch and tartness of the blueberries was mouthwatering. But even as he ate he could feel an unease deep in his chest. Something was wrong here and he just didn't know what.

 

Stiles was happily eating, even smiling but his eyes constantly moved tracking everyone as they took a bite. Watched as their hands scooped up another large piece and practically fell into their plates like starving animals.

 

No one spoke, too distracted by the food to even want to speak. No one was even lingering to draw out heading to school.

 

Even Jamie sat quietly and ate, not something he was capable most times. His childlike energy seemed to be set on pause just for this meal.

 

Hell even Erica had taken a break at making snide remarks.

 

Scott leaned back in his chair with a happy moan rubbing at his stomach. “Stiles buddy, that was the best breakfast ever.

 

Stiles beamed. “Well I aim to please.”

 

Peter frowned at that.

 

Talia then did something Peter hadn't seen her do since she was a teen. To Peter's horror she licked her fork clean then used her finger to scrap the last of the sweet icing off the plate and sucked it off.

 

Peter gagged.

 

Disgusting.

 

“Thank you for breakfast Stiles.”

 

Blushing Stiles smiled again. “I figured you would enjoy the break from making breakfast.”

 

“I certainly did but now unfortunately kids, it's time for school so head out.”

 

And for once not a single one of them argued. They placed their plates in the skin then grabbed their bags Stiles had left lined up against the wall and with shouts and waves they rushed out the door.

 

“Will wait for you outside Stiles.” Scott called.

 

Stiles nodded placing his own plate in the sink before grabbing his own backpack. He had gone back to school last week after taking a little over a week off. With the stress of scenting his parents again and a panic attack that had him paced out for ten minutes he had skipped class.

 

An illness Peter had told the school, they were all to willing to accommodate him to afraid to piss Peter off again after the Harris incident.

 

“I'll help you will dinner after school Talia if you don't mind waiting.” Stiles says shrugging his pack over his shoulder.

 

“Oh that's okay honey, I'm sure you will have homework to do I can take care of dinner.”

 

Stiles frowned, his scent souring. Peter raised an eyebrow, that was the second time this morning his scent took on that harsh blistering scent of burning leaves.

 

It wasn't anything he had smelled before.

 

It was concerning.

 

“Okay, but if you change your mind just let me know.” Stiles looked towards Peter before kissing him on the cheek. “Have a nice day.”

 

“You too, sweetheart.”

 

His sister and her husband let the silence last for ten minutes before Peter got a sharp kick from under the table. Peter jumped pulling his eyes away from the door.

 

“What's wrong little brother?”

 

Peter rolled his shoulders trying to get the tension out of them. “I don't know yet.”

 

“Okay, well what do you think the problem is? Something is bothering you, so don't try to lie or try to sass your way out of it.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Something is wrong with Stiles.” He didn't know what else to say, his scent of off. He was being very helpful. To helpful, like he was over compensating.

 

“His scent was off.” James says.

 

“Yes I smelled it too, Burnt leaves.” Talia mutters looking thoughtful. “I've never smelled an emotion like that.”

 

“And the thing with the backpacks, that was strange. Sweet but strange.”

 

Peter sighed. “Do you think it's because I brought his stuff here?”

 

Ever since he got that damn moving truck Stiles had been doing odd things. Laundry was magically done and left folded on everyone's bed. Bathrooms cleaned. Dishes always done and put away.

 

There was a chore list, no one had ever had to do it because Stiles did it all.

 

What Peter couldn't understand was why. In the last two weeks, his little Mate had done more cleaning in this house then any of the people who had lived here in years. His smiled always seemed forced.

 

“No, something else is going on here. He reacted poorly to his parents scent yes, but that was to be expected. Memories probably flooded when he smelled them, hopefully with a little time it won't effect him so much.”

 

“I can't think of what though.” And that frustrated the hell out of him Peter didn't like not knowing things.

 

“You've been different towards him.” Talia suddenly blurted.

 

Peter frowned. “I haven't.”

 

“Ever since that panic attack in the storage box you have been handling him with kid gloves. If I've noticed it so has he, Stiles is a brilliant boy things like that won't escape his notice.”

 

“I upset him, I sent him into a panic attack so intense he dropped like a man that just been shot Talia.”

 

“He loved what you did for him, he carries his mothers cookbook in his backpack Peter. He reads it every day when I'm sure he has already memorized it. You gave him something back he needed. That panic attack was awful yes, but he gets those a lot and as much as I hate to see it anything can set him off.”

 

“What Talia is saying Peter is you need to go back to how you were treating him two weeks ago. I didn't say anything because I had hoped you would snap out of it yourself but it looked like you haven't even noticed. Did you know on a normal day before this happened you kissed Stiles either on the forehead or cheek every time you came in close contact with him. This week alone that number has dwindled down to maybe five time.”

 

“That boy glows when you kiss and touch him. A simple touch of his cheek with your finger tips. Fingers in his hair, a hand at the back of the neck. You two gravitate towards each other so much I'm not surprised you don't notice. He touches you too. His fingers stroke your arms when you walk past, his thigh or shoulder pressed against you when you set next to each other.”

 

Peter raised a hand to spot the speaking. “You're going on a bit of a tangent there sister dear.”

 

“There, that right there, that damn sass. Don't ignore what I'm saying Peter.” Talia slammed her hand on the table.

 

“What do you want me to say Talia! I had never been the cause of one of those fucking panic attacks before. It physically hurt me and it's not because it hurt why I pulled back. I just don't want to cause one of those again. Don't you understand that? I'm done with this conversation.” Peter shoved away from the table and stomped off.

 

Did his sister not know he was aware how often he touched Stiles. How he thrived on the softness of his skin. The sweet honey scent on his skin. The aroma of fresh snow.

 

Peter sighed.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“So Stilinski, you skip a weeks worth of school then waltz back in here like you own the place and not a single teacher bat an eye.” Stiles jumped as two large arms slammed into the lockers in front of him blocking his exit.

 

Stiles dropped his forehead on the locker door in front of him. Ever since he had been back to this hell hole Jackson had been riding his ass. Ever day he had to starve off the panic attack when he pinned him against a wall, a lock, a bathroom stale.

 

He always had to wait till Jackson left before barfed and choked on his own breath.

 

The only thing saving Stiles from Peter knowing was the distance between the two of them recently.

 

He had hurt Peter. That stupid wonderful man had done something crazy beautiful for him by pestering cops until he got what he wanted and delivered it to Stiles.

 

And his damn panic attacks ruined it.

 

He felt pathetic.

 

“Not even the good Mr. Harris says shit to your ass anymore and that pisses me off more than the fact that your the bitch of Peter Hale.”

 

Stiles froze up. Why was Jackson talking about Peter? How did he know anything about his and Peter's relationship.

 

“I think you are delusional Jackson.” His voice was small, breathless and god he hated himself for it.

 

“Don't think I don't know about the Hales and their tendency to go furry.”

 

“No.” No, no way he knew. Someone like Jackson doesn't have information like that and not spread it like wild fire.

 

A hand wrapped around the back of his neck, slamming him roughly against the locker.

 

“No you say? See my girl is a banshee, so is her grandmother. I know all kinds of wonderful things about all that crazy supernatural shit.”

 

Stiles pushed back against the hand on his neck. His eyes were darkening around the edges.

 

“What do you want?” Don't touch me. He wanted to scream. Don't fucking touch me.

 

“I just want to know what you did to get everyone to look the other way. What's so special about you that you miss a week of school and not even Harris rides your ass.”

 

What? Stiles was suddenly confused.

 

“I didn't do anything. Harris, he made Peter mad so Peter talked to him that's all.”

 

The hand on the back of his neck tightened. “Don't bullshit me. What's so special about Peter Hale that everyone and I mean everyone looks the other way where your concerned.”

 

“Do you know anything about Peter, he can be a terrifying man if you piss him off. It's that simple.”

 

A fist slammed into his side, Stiles cried out grabbing at his ribs. No matter how many times Jackson had pinned him against a wall he had never hit him.

 

“Bullshit, he's just one fucking person. He has the whole damn campus turning a blind eye. You're getting straight A's, you are above my girl in the top of the class and you have only been in this school for a week. That makes Lydia angry and what makes Lyd's angry makes me angry. Get where I'm going with this?”

 

Stiles tried to choke in a breath that had been knocked out of him. This was all about the fact he was smarter then his girlfriend?

 

Before Stiles could help himself he was laughing, hysterically. This wasn't about the Hale's being werewolves or his girl being a damn banshee. Or about the fact that Peter scared the shit out of everyone. This was about the fact his girlfriend was being shown up by the new kid.

 

Jesus, if you would have told Stiles a few weeks ago someone could be that petty he would have refused to believe it.

 

Stiles took a breath to calm himself. “I like to study that's all. Reading, Jackson it makes the world go round and lets illiterate jocks like yourself learn words.”

 

Stiles knew it was a mistake the moment the words left his mouth. Three jabs to his ribs snapped the bones, his lungs seized.

 

The fox made a half ass attempted to swing his arm back and nail Jackson in the face but a heel of a foot connected with his knee cap as he was swung around to face Jackson.

 

A sickening crack filled his ear as he crashed to the floor. His lunch rushed from his stomach and splattered on the floor. He didn't have time to raise his arm to block his collarbone before that same foot stomped down with such force the bones wilted under the pressure.

 

Stiles screamed and then blinked because either Stiles was going crazy or Jackson had scales. Dark green scales.

 

What the hell was he?

 

The thought ran for the hills when claws swung towards his face. Instinct kicked in then his arm was the only thing that saved his face from being shredded.

 

He was going to die, in a locker room by a fucking jock lizard because he was smarter then said lizards girlfriend.

 

His panic set in, the dark spots in his vision grew so wide his was almost blind to the attack above him.

 

Why the hell had he agreed to stay and clean up the locker rooms?

 

Because he wanted to be a good omega even for people who didn't know he was one.

 

He couldn't breathe.

 

He couldn't breathe.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

There was a hum in the back of his mind that had him moving back towards the school. An echo in his ears of a scream.

 

He was running before his mind caught up with his feet, Isaac was blindly following. The scream became a wail of pain.

 

His wolf was howling, pack, hurt, save.

 

Scott slammed through the locker room door so hard he ripped it off its hinge, wood splintering. He didn't think, didn't even stop. He snarled slamming into that bastard Jackson. Once, twice Scott slammed his fisted into his smug face.

 

He just kept hitting, his skin splitting and bleeding. The crack of the jaw shattering under his fist was so satisfying he would have smiled if under different circumstances.

 

“Jesus, Scott fucking stop!” Isaac's voice cut through his rage in seconds. “I-I, what do I do Scott?!”

 

Scott crawled across the floor so fast he missed the puddle of blood. His arm slid wildly to the right, he fell, chest smacking into the tiled floor, blood soaked into his shirt. With a grunt he was back on his knees at Isaac's and Stiles side before he could blink.

 

Stiles had his neck hyper-extended, gasping his way through a panic attack so intense his eyes were rolled into the back of his head.

 

“Stiles, Stiles!?” Scott didn't touch him, the only person who ever got away with touching Stiles through a panic attack was Peter.

 

“What...” Isaac cursed. “Call, Peter we need Peter.”

 

Scott dialed.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

He was brooding, and it was childish.

 

He'd smack himself for it any second now. After he got over whatever is was buzzing in the back of his mind.

 

He was pacing the library his sister was glowering at him from her chair under the bay window.

 

Had he really stopped touching Stiles that much? He was so busy throwing a pity party about the panic attack he hadn't really thought about it that much. He knew he back off some, but he didn't think he back off so much he upset his Mate.

 

Was that why Stiles was doing so much? Trying to prove himself he was good enough? That he was a good Mate?

 

No, it wasn't about the panic attack. He was a smart enough man to know Stiles would never hold that against him. It was his own pigheadedness that made him think Stiles was doing all this over something like that. If he really thought about it Stiles emotions shifted the day after the panic attack he suffered when Erica and Boyd got home.

 

What changed that day?

 

“Talia, I will never, never say this again but you are right.” Those words tasted disgusting in his mouth.

 

Talia raised an eyebrow. “I'm always right, but what this time am I right about?”

 

“It wasn't because of his parents scent or the panic attack. Something else is going on.” He just didn't know what.

 

“Well, the laundry started to magically got washed and folded the day after the panic attack under the bed. He spent that day crying, but when he woke up he was in a great mood.”

 

“It's sure the hell not happiness, whatever that nasty ass burnt smell was coming from his pores is almost suffocating.”

 

“It's not stress, his scent takes on a sort of inky hint to it when that happens.” Though he had smelled of more stress after returning from school everyday. That was most likely from the crowds.

 

“Something changed though, he's trying way to hard to please everyone. We need to figure out why.”

 

Peter gave a bitter laugh. “No shit Talia, I don't much like my mate so... out of sorts. He can't deal with his stress levels if he's on some weird rampage to please everyone. He's turned into a fucking homemaker terminator.”

 

“Well, we'll have a...”

 

Peter's phone rang cutting her off. Annoyed pulled out his phone and answered without looking at who was calling.

 

“What?”

 

Heavy breathing. Strangled choking. “P-Peter?” Peter tensed at the sound of Scott's voice. “You need to come to the school, the.. the locker room. Stiles was attacked... It's, it's bad.”

 

Peter was running for the door before the boy could even finish speaking.

 

“Tell me what's happening?”

 

Talia was hot on his heels, keys in hand and rushing towards her SUV. Peter slid into the passenger seat.

 

“Jackson, he. He's some weird fucking lizard! He was attacking Stiles. He's bleeding Peter, and I can't get him to focus on us. He... this is the worst panic attack I've ever seen. He won't pass out Peter, he won't pass out.”

 

Peter swore his eyes flared red with rage.

 

“Where is he bleeding from?” What the hell was happening?

 

“His arm is shredded. Jackson had some weird claws while he was shifted, into whatever the hell he was. I had to touch him, I'm sorry. I know I'm not suppose to while he's panicking like this but he's not healing and it's bleeding bad.”

 

Of course he wasn't healing. Fucking lunar foxes didn't heal like werewolves. Normal werefoxes didn't heal like them.

 

“I just need you to get here.” Scott was slipping into some type of shock. These damn kids hadn't had to deal with anything violent ever.

 

“Two minutes.” Just too fucking minutes.

 

“Why won't he pass out?” Scott cried. And god help him, Peter had no idea why. The only thing Peter could think was because of fear. Fear to being helpless in the hands of an attacker.

 

“H-his eyes are white.”

 

The fox was keeping him awake. Instinct, the deep seated need for self preservation.

 

“We're here.” Peter had the SUV door open and was running before his sister even had the car at a full stop. He knew this school like the back of his hand he was at the boys locker room and beside Stiles before he even known it.

 

Oh, Peter thought his blood boiling. Peter was going to go on a fucking rampage once his Mate was safe at home.

 

Stiles was body was so tense Peter could hear his muscles straining. His neck hyper-extended with the force of him trying to take air into his lungs. His hands shaking.

 

Scott had a towel wrapped lightly around Stiles arm the white fabric was stained red. Stiles was heaving for breath with such force his back lifted off the floor.

 

A gentle hand slid down the boys neck, soothingly rubbing the pulse their to calm it. His heart rate was to high, even for a were. Peter wasn't sure if any of them could suffer from a heart attack but I didn't want Stiles to be the first case of one.

 

“Shhh, baby.” Stiles whined deep in this throat. Dimly Peter took into account Talia was ripping Jackson off the ground and slamming the little bastard against the locker. He took pleasure in the boys scent of fear.

 

Peter trailed his hand through Stiles hair, he was sweating, his skin was burning with fever. Peter made sure to breath from his mouth to ignore the pungent smell of vomit.

 

He kept stroking. His neck, his hair. Whispering to Stiles, hoping to smother the panic.

 

“I got you baby, you're okay.” He moved his hand towards the boys chest, rubbing soothing circles over the pounding heart.

 

“Deep breath sweetheart, I got you. We have you love.” Slowly Stiles tense body began to relax. His breath sounds were still to fast, his heart rate to wild but after staring blindly up at the ceiling Stiles finally blinked.

 

“S'hurts.” Stiles swallowed thickly, knowing what was happening as gently has humanly possible Peter rolled Stiles just in time for the boy to heave all over Peter's lap.

 

Stiles spit, cried. “I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry.”

 

“Shhh, You're fine, it's fine.”

 

“Peter, get Stiles home, call Deaton and Melissa get his what he needs then meet me at Whittemore's.” Talia snarled.

 

“How are you going to get there? We took one car.” Peter pulled Stiles into his arms, Scott followed still holding the towel in place.

 

Talia smirked. “We'll be taking Jackson's Porsche.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“Shattered knee, collarbone, four ribs, extensive bruising around his neck.” Melissa sigh as she rattled of Stiles injures. “Jackson nicked a major artery in his arm, if Scott wouldn't have got there when he did he would have bleed out.”

 

Peter was snarling to say the least. Loudly, a constant rumble in his throat as he watched Melissa stitch the deep claw marks.

 

Stiles' was unconscious. For once Peter agreed to the sedative, the man just didn't think the boys heart could take the beating his body was giving it.

 

Deaton was leaning over a blood sample he had taken from Stiles, his own personal lab set up was present on Peter's desk so the doctor could work. The druid add some odd herb he hadn't had the pleasure of scenting before. It made him angry for some reason. Pissed off his wolf for some wild reason.

 

“Stiles blood has no healing factors at all.” Deaton sounded stunned. “A werefox, a lunar fox and he has not a single healing factor present in his blood.”

 

“What the hell does that mean.” Peter snapped.

 

“His own magic is attacking him.”

 

Peter froze. “I'm sorry come again?”

 

“Have you smelled anything different about his scent recently? Anything at all?”

 

Peter nodded. “Yes, burnt leaves. Twice today he smelled of burnt dead leaves.”

 

Deaton shook his head then cursed startling Peter. If it was one thing Alan Deaton didn't do it was swear. “Stiles is an omega, and omega lunar fox. Both make him the ultimate being to nurture and take care of others. It's set in his blood, in legends are true when a lunar fox doesn't feel like they are being caring enough, helpful or giving, their magic attacks. They are beings of the earth, kind kinder souls, their whole purpose in life is to help others. If he feels like he isn't doing that he is essentially attacking himself as punishment.”

 

Peter blinked. “And him attacking himself does all of what in the long run? Besides demolishing his ability to heal.”

 

“It kills them.”

 

Peter's heart seized. “What the fuck do you mean it kills him? It's his own magic, why would any being have any type of magic that would attack itself.”

 

“I can't tell you that because it's just stories.”

 

“So, he dies if he doesn't feel like he's helping us enough?” Peter was at a loss. Stiles helped, he care for everyone daily and that was before he started his cleaning crusade. Then it hit him. All the cleaning, the breakfast this morning. This shit with the backpacks.

 

“Oh baby.” Peter kissed Stiles on the forehead. Peter knew Stiles felt like a burden to them from time to time, but he hadn't realized it was so bad that his own fox would attack him. That he would stress himself so much that he began clean every inch of the house and doing laundry for a household as large of theirs.

 

“Okay, if we fix this fucking magical depression he's suffering from he'll get better?”

 

“Yes, he'll get better.”

 

“Mmmm.” Peter whipped his head so fast in Stiles direction he gave himself whiplash. Why the hell was he waking up already?

 

“Oh, I forgot to mention, I learned since the time when young Mr. Stiles and I first met that you can't sedate a lunar fox for longer then forty minutes. It's a safety mechanism to keep them out of the hands of the enemy for long periods at a time while unaware whats happening around them.”

 

“Fucking fantastic.”

 

Melissa snapped her gloves off and through them in the trash. Peter made his way towards the bed. He sat slowly as to not shake it to much. Stiles chest had been wrapped his arm in a sling after they had set his collarbone, his knee in a heavy cast.

 

His little Mate was a mess.

 

“Peter?” Stiles words were slow but a lot more steadier then they had been.

 

“Yes sweetheart I'm right here.” Peter combed his fingers through those dark locks.

 

“M'sorry.”

 

Peter kissed away the tear that escaped those pretty eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for little love. And I swear we will talk about it in length after you get some rest and I go kill Jackson, okay baby?”

 

Stiles lips twitched. “He jumped me because I'm smarter then his girlfriend.” Stiles gave a sleepy giggle. “He's been slamming me against walls and backing me into me into corners all week because I'm smart and that pissed off his freaking banshee girlfriend.”

 

Peters hand twitched, itching to maim that little bastard. “We will also talk about you keeping things from me Stiles.”

 

Stiles giggled again. “Yes sir.” Chuckling Peter kissed him once more on the cheek before scooping the kitten up off the floor and placing her on Stiles chest.

 

“Maz is going to keep you company until I get back, if you need anything you call someone to get it for you. If you get out of this bed sweetheart I'll bend you over my knee.” Peter smirked at the blush that graced Stiles face. “Are we clear?”

 

“Yes sir, caption sir.”

 

“Get some rest sassy.”

 

 

To be continued.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will get better... Possibly. Most likely... After it gets worse.


	4. devils fall

 

If there was one thing Peter Hale was good at it was putting the fear of god in someone. Talia had seen it several times in her lifetime. Rival packs have gone running from her brothers wake. She had seen serial murderers piss themselves and crumble during his questioning during a trial.

 

For someone only twenty six years old her little brother could wither a soul with a look.

 

He was not someone Talia wanted on her bad side.

 

Malcolm Whittemore was already a blubbering mess but the time Talia was done speaking to him, but when Peter came striding through the office doors of the mans study, Talia was sure the mans soul had fled his body.

 

Jackson was crumbled in a chair next to his father. His broken jaw almost completely healed. The bruises Talia had left on his neck gone.

 

Peter's blue eyes cut to Jackson. The kid gulped loudly, sliding down in his chair as if he would disappear into it. Malcolm made a feeble attempt to stand in front of his son, but the mans legs were shaking so bad Talia was surprised he was still standing.

 

Malcolm straightened his suit jacket. “Now Mr. Hale..”

 

“You shut your mouth if you want to keep your tongue.” The mans cheeks reddened in anger but he snapped his jaw closed so fast his teeth clashed.

 

“First, what the fuck is he?” Blue eyes glanced at Talia momentarily before sliding back towards the fearful pair.

 

“He's a kanima, haven't seen one myself but Mom and Dad dealt with a few.” Talia snorted, she was just that pissed she couldn't keep the noise to herself. “Mr. Whittemore failed to mention that his son was attacked by a feral werewolf a few years back, it's not all that shocking his brat of a son turned into some twisted version of a were.”

 

“And the werewolf that bit him?” Peter asks.

 

“Beheaded, and according to Whittemore they placed the corpse under his dead wife's coffin.”

 

Peter looked disgusted as Talia felt. Oh everyone knew Malcolm was a nasty man with no regrades of human life besides his own and his sons. But it took a special kind of sick bastard to dig up your wife to hide a body.

 

“Please do tell, why you failed to inform the towns Alpha about the happenings of a werewolf attack?” Peter purred.

 

Jackson looked confused, his eyebrows scrunching into his hairline. “Dad has only known about this supernatural shit since I got bit.”

 

Talia laughed. “No, a fair amount of people in town know. Judges, cops, a few doctors. People that need to know. The only reason your disgusting father knows is because your mother knew.”

 

“Dad?”

 

Peter snarled. “You.” He shoved a finger into the kids chest. “You keep your fucking mouth shut until I give you the right to speak.”

 

The teen sputtered.

 

“We handled it, the way I see it I had no reason to tell her.” Peter had his hand around the mans neck so swiftly his image blurred.

 

“Your only alive because I hadn't found a good enough reason to kill you yet. This though, I could kill you for this. Hiding a very dangerous creature in your house.”

 

The man shuddered. “You.. You'd never get away with that.”

 

A predatory smile graced Peter's face. Malcolm paled. “I can get away with lot of things, the animal attacks up here are just so awful. Some poor soul walking the woods, then suddenly there's a wolf. Clawing out his stomach from his spine, the snap of bones when those massive teeth bite through the skin, muscle and bones of his throat. The spray of blood would be so thick it would coat the trees.”

 

Peter gave a manic laugh.

 

“No one would suspect a person, a man wearing a wolves fur, and the ones who would suspect it, would never utter a single word in our direction. You know why that is don't you?”

 

“No one ever had proof I did those thing!” Malcolm snapped. He pulled back roughly hoping to break the hold Peter had on him.

 

It was a futile attempt.

 

“No, no, but that's only because we can't exactly say in court that we found you through the scent on those girls clothes.”

 

“Dad!? What the hell is he talking about?” The boy jumped to his feet rushing towards the two men. The kanima was sailing through the air and smashing through a bookcase when a well aimed jab shot out from Peter.

 

The boy struggled to get back up. He fell, breathing heavily.

 

“Just because we couldn't prove it with DNA evidence or eyewitnesses doesn't mean the people of this town don't know. People don't move out of your way when you walk by because they fear you Malcolm. They move because everyone knows what type of disgusting human being you truly are.”

 

Peter dropped the man as soon as he pissed himself. “Now, you're going to sit back and enjoy watching me break your son, then he'll heal and then I'm going to do it all over again. And when that's all said and done, I might break you a little as well. Just because I can.”

 

“Please, don't kill him.”

 

Peter smiled. “I won't kill him because and only because my Mate told me not to. Stiles didn't say I couldn't crush every bone in his body though.”

 

“M-mate?” Malcolm's eye rounded on Jackson. “You attacked a werewolf mate you fucking idiot!”

 

Jackson was sitting up now. “I didn't know they were Mates Lydia just said Stiles was Peter's fuck toy!”

 

Peter gave pause as he advanced on the boy. “Lydia Martin knows nothing. Lydia is just as big of a spoiled brat as you. You really need a new master Jackson, because your current one.” Peter gave a smile that was all teeth. “She just ruined you.”

 

Peter attacked. The boys arm was nothing but a crush noodle as Peter took hold snapping the bones like dry dead sticks. The boy screamed, it quickly turned into a howl of agony when a large foot swung down shattering the boys knee cap.

 

Talia twitched when the kids knee bent at an impossible angle.

 

“Please! Please!” Peter tossed him through another bookcase. Talia didn't have a view point anymore with the ruined shelves blocking her brothers bent form.

 

But she could still hear. The gurgling cries, the snap of more bones breaking, the ripping of flesh.

 

Then silence.

 

Peter spoke. “I want to kill you. I should kill you for even looking at my Mate the wrong way, but he's kind and doesn't want you dead.” Talia moved around so she could see.

 

Her brother had the teens face clasped in his hand, the boys face was a bloody mess he was missing several teeth. His left eyes swollen shut. Talia fought a gag, half the kids face was collapsed in on itself.

 

“But if you even so much as breath the wrong way towards him, nothing he can say will make me stop next time. The only thing saving you is Stiles kindness. Do you understand me?”

 

“Y-yes Sir. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” The boy hiccuped. “She was angry, she was angry.”

 

Peter dropped the kid before turning.

 

“Come on sister, next stop is to the little bitch of a banshee.”

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

The best way to scare someone? Talia would say her brother though it was kicking down doors and illegally entering a house. Her brothers walk was slow and calculated his eyes a bright honey color. He was hunting.

 

And there was not a chance in this world Talia was going to step in his way. The family of five sitting down for dinner shouted at the intrusion.

 

“Peter Hale!? What the hell do you think you are doing coming into my house like this?”

 

Peter raised a brow. “I've come to destroy your daughter of course.”

 

Mr. Martin hand shot out towards his stake knife, Peter throw the dinning room table across the room so fast Talia had to tuck and roll to get out of its way.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Talia bit off a snarl, she could never stand Lucinda Martin. A girl from old money who thought the world owed her something.

 

“That's enough out of you Lucy.” Her mother snapped. The woman's eyes grow wide.

 

“Mother!”

 

“Enough!” It was amusing to see a grown woman wither under her mothers words. For seventy years old she was still a banshee no one wanted to anger. “Peter dear, what seems to be the problem?”

 

Peter actually gave the older women a kind smile. It was an abrupt change from the manic look he had been sporting.

 

“You're granddaughter ma'am. She had my Mate attacked at school today.” The older woman cut her eyes to the redhead.

 

“Lydia, I would say I hope he's lying but Peter never lie's. His brutal honesty is what I've always find so charming.” The docile look on the old face changed to rage. “I won't stop what he plans on doing, you know little girl that we do not mess with mates ,not for any reason.”

 

“But gran!”

 

“No! I doubt you had a good reason to do so to began with.” Mary smiled towards Peter. “Please do continue.”

 

“Your granddaughter had her boyfriend attack my mate in the locker room. He has several broken bone, deep lacerations, severe bruising.” Peter made a disgusted sound. “All because Stiles beat her in the top scores in school.”

 

“He was cheating!” The girl snapped outraged.

 

“He wasn't, Stiles has an IQ of one ninety six. I know because he took a test one day out of boredom.”

 

Lydia scuffed and to Talia's annoyance she flipped her hair over her shoulder for dramatic effect. “He was a nasty, rabid boy living in the woods almost a year ago. No way that thing is smarter than me.”

 

Peter was in the girls face and holding her up by her jaw in a blink. “That boy is better then you will even be. That boy, my mate can work circles around your spoiled ass and not even flatter once. A mind like his is a treasure. You wouldn't understand that of course seeing as you have your head shoved so far up your own ass.”

 

Pale hands were wrapped around Peter's arm, the girls feet kicking wildly to find purchase.

 

“I would break you, add your blood to that of your boyfriends I'm wearing, but you don't heal like him and I don't make it a point to slaughter little girls. But if you even think of trying something like that again, I'll crawl through your window while you sleep at gut you.”

 

Hysterical sobs shook the girls small frame. “I just wanted...”

 

Peter gave her a rough shake. “I don't give two shit's what you wanted. You think just because you can command your boyfriend to do something you don't get punished as well? That there is no link or proof to what you do. I don't need to the law to punish you Lydia, so I would recommend that you straighten up your act.”

 

Peter dropped the girl. “Mrs. Mary, I'm sorry I ruined your dinner.” Taking the older woman's hand Peter helped her stand.

 

“Oh, not at all sweetheart, now how is your little mate doing?”

 

Peter frowned. “No so well, I would actually like to be getting back to him now.”

 

Mary patted his hand. “Of course, you call me if you need anything. And don't you worry now dear, I'll hand out a lovely punishment to my bullheaded granddaughter.”

 

Lydia's parents said nothing.

 

After a swift kiss on the older woman's cheek from Peter, they were gone.

 

The silence in the car was relaxing after the last couple of hours, but even as she drove Talia could feel the tension rolling off her little brother.

 

“What's wrong Peter?”

 

Peter sighed. “Deaton told me the scent we were smelling, it's Stiles magic killing him”

 

Talia slammed on the brakes so fast the car behind them almost rear-ended them.

 

“What do you mean? How's that even possible.” Talia made no move to get out of the middle of the road.

 

“Stiles has apparently worked himself into a supernatural lunar fox depression. He doesn't feel like he's being caring enough for the pack, so his magic is attack him as punishment.” Peter gave a bitter laugh. “That's why he's gone on that damn cleaning crusade.”

 

“Can it be stopped?”

 

Peter nodded. “Yes, I just have to make sure I get his depression under control. Make him feel needed and that he is nurturing the pack like he needs too, or feels like he needs too.”

 

“We, Peter.” Her little brother glanced her way. “We are going to help him, you seem to forget that you are part of this pack and we help each other. I will not let you or that sweet boy ruin yourselves.”

 

Peter smiled.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Stiles was in a half hazed sleep when Peter got home, even through his haze he could smell the blood on his wolfs skin. Peter said he was going to shower before they had a talk.

 

Stiles was suddenly nervous. He didn't want to lie to his mate, but he didn't know if he could show that much more weakness in front of him. He was already such a sorry excuse of mate and omega he didn't want to point it out to the man.

 

Though he probably already knew. Peter was smart like that.

 

The shower shut off.

 

Peter wondered in, only a towel around his waist. Stiles licked his lips, his wolf had the nicest body.

 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

 

Oh that ego, Stiles thought. “Yes.” His skin was burning.

 

“We'll discuss that another time.” Peter pulled on a pair of boxers and sweat pants, Stiles didn't look away but his face heated more.

 

The bed dipped as Peter sat, it pulled at Stiles wounds. He made a wounded sound, then the pain was gone as a skillful hand cupped his neck. Pulling pain. Soothing him in to a blissful cool haze of pain reliefe.

 

Stiles sighed.

 

“Now, love before you get some rest we are going to have that talk.” Stiles swallowed nervously.

 

“C-can we maybe gloss over that?” He really didn't want to talk about it.

 

“No, because I know Deaton told you about your magic. So we need to have that talk, baby because I'm not going to lose you to your own misconception that your aren't good enough.”

 

“I...” He didn't know what to say.

 

“You do so much for everyone and you don't even realize it.”

 

Stiles frowned. “I don't help with anything, I'm constantly getting in the way with panic attacks a-and the hiding.”

 

“Oh sweetheart, your so blind to you own happenings aren't you? Did you know that every day after school you help Scott and Isaac with their homework? You'll read to Jamie when he just needs one more story thirty times. You help Talia with making sure all the bills are paid on time. Hell Derek came over once during midterms so you could help him study.”

 

“T-that's not really anything Peter, what about y-you I don't do anything for you and you do so much for me.” He was crying, hot tears on his cheeks.

 

Warm lips kiss away his tears. “The only thing I need you do to for me love, is be here with me happy, healthy and smiling.”

 

“T-that's.” Of course that's what Peter would say, Stiles thought wildly, because Peter was stupidly perfect.

 

“I hurt you.”

 

Peter pulled back frowning. “I don't know what you mean sweetheart, you've never hurt me.”

 

Stiles nodded frantically. “I did, I did hurt you. W-when I had that panic attack after you went through so much trouble to get me my families things. You looked so hurt when I woke up, so hurt and that was my fault.”

 

“Oh baby, I wasn't hurt because you got upset. I was just angry with myself because I'd never been the cause of a panic attack before. I'm sorry I made you feel like you hurt me, I don't think you are even capable of hurting me Stiles. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

 

Stiles struggled to sit up, then got frustrated. “Up, sit me up you stupid werewolf.”

 

Warm hands lifted him, pulling pain as he went. Once up Stiles wiggled till he was in Peter's lap. “We aren't very good with this communication thing are we?” Stiles asked, looking into those pale blue eyes.

 

Peter chuckled rolling his finger over the pulse in Stiles neck. “No sweetheart, I guess were not. We need to work on that though because I really can't stand the smell you have been letting off lately.”

 

Stiles sniffed. “What smell.” He scented his own shoulder then shrugged. Well to the best of his ability. The movement pulled at his shattered collarbone.

 

“The magic that is attacking you, keeping you from healing. It smells like burnt leaves, I don't like the smell of burning things and to scent it on you.” Peter fell silent.

 

Stiles heart fluttered. Leaning forward he pressed his forehead against Peters. “I didn't mean to.”

 

I didn't mean to give you bad memories. He thought.

 

“I know love, but we need to work on that because you are wonderful and you do help. Your presents alone lights up a room. I refuse to allow you to hurt yourself, even if you were unaware of it.”

 

Stiles bit his lip. With his need to be better all he ended up doing was hurting himself and worrying Peter. That wasn't what he intended to do, he had just wanted to help but all he did was make a shit storm out of it.

 

“You're thinking to hard, and that smell is coming back. I don't like it Stiles.”

 

Stiles blinked snapping out of his own mind. “Sorry.” He rubbed his nose against Peter's unconsciously scenting him.

 

He missed touching Peter these last two weeks. Being close. He purred when fingers tangled in his hair.

 

“Here's what we are going to do sweetheart, once a week you will have a sit down with me and Talia and we are going to talk about how you are feeling. Even once that smell is gone we are going to talk once a week because you need it. I need it. I know you feel like a burden but that's so far from the truth, and I know those panic attacks make you feel awful but it's only been ten months you need more time then that. A grown ass man will need more time then that. PTSD is something hard to deal with, and yes I see that look your giving me. You have PTSD and that is understandable.”

 

PTSD. He have never thought of it like that before, it wasn't even in his field of thought.

 

Peter smiled. “You my beautiful Mate, are extraordinary. You didn't go feral after being alone so long in fox form. You bloomed so fast into something magnificent and I will make you believe that if it's the last thing I do. Do you understand?”

 

Tear's blurred his vision “I understand.”

 

It was implosive and scary but he was moving before he thought about it. His lips met the softness of Peter's. That hand in his air tightened lightly. Something warm bloomed in his chest. Stiles pulled back sighing. He licked his lips tasting Peter.

 

“Beautiful.” Peter whispered. “And you my beautiful fox need to rest, I'll get you a snack then we are going to nap because beating the shit out of Jackson tired me out.”

 

Stiles giggled as Peter laid him back in the bed. “Is he alive?”

 

Peter growled, nipping at Stiles cheek. “Yes love, unfortunately he is alive.”

 

“What was he?”

 

Peter sighed. “No, we will talk about it later because I can hear your stomach making some god awful noise and you look exhausted.”

 

“I got jumped by a monstrous lizard, I'm allowed to look exhausted.”

 

“And if you keep talking about it I'm going to slaughter said lizard; love.”

 

“Food, Peter?” Stiles laughed as Peter quickly rushed away. Stiles sighed once he was sure Peter was far enough away.

 

Maz crawled up his chest purring loudly. “I messed up sweet girl.” He hadn't meant to, but now he needed to relax try to go back to doing what he was already doing. Trying to slowly work through his issues not trying to force himself. It stressed him out and it stressed Peter out when he smelled whatever it was that was upsetting him.

 

He took a deep breath to calm himself. He'll just be Stiles. He could do that.

 

He could.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Talia was eyeballing him when he got to the kitchen, and Peter was content with ignoring her while he sliced apple's, put grapes into a bowl and pilled a few oranges. Scott wandered into the room then looking anxious and wiggling where he stood.

 

Peter didn't stop preparing Stiles snack, pouring him a cup of juice. He slipped a piece of orange into his mouth chewing thoroughly.

 

Scott whined. Peter sighed in answer. “Okay pup, what's wrong.”

 

Peter ignored the pleased scent off Talia. Why did people always react that way towards him? He could be caring.... Okay he was an ass, but he could still care and be an ass at the same time.

 

“Is Stiles doing okay? I wanted to check on him but I didn't know how upset he was.”

 

Peter smiled to himself. Scott could be scatterbrained and work on impulse alone but he had his moments where you saw the great guy he would be once he got over his teenage angst.

 

“He's okay as he can be at the moment, you can go check on him if you like. Tell him I'll have his snack in a moment.”

 

The boy rushed off quickly stomping his way up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. Peter pretended he didn't see him trip over his own feet in his hast.

 

Once he was sure he had a nice assortment of food for Stiles he placed it on a tray before grabbing himself a cup of coffee. It would relax him some, and give Scott and Stiles a few moments before he headed up.

 

He still itched to maim and rip skin from bones, but for once he ignored the need to do so. Peter was positive he got his point across and if he hadn't he would repeat the process again. Except no one would be walking away alive next time. Dealing with Jackson had helped with his rage a great extent, but he got more satisfaction with Lydia then he did the boy.

 

The kid was a complete Jackass, being spoiled and given everything you ever asked for would do that. Turning into a kanima didn't help the matter any, not when your master was a rotten banshee who didn't liked to be shown up.

 

God if that girl could have healed just a bit he would have broken bones on her too.

 

Besides the hurt mate, Peter thought he had a rather good day. He found the answer to his worries this morning. Got to beat the shit out of a teenage, make Malcolm piss himself and terrify a banshee.

 

He would always chalk that up as a win.

 

Though seeing Mary had been the highlight to his rampage.

 

“We should ask Mary to speak with Stiles.” Talia said as if she knew the man was thinking of the older woman.

 

Peter thought for a moment. “I don't know why I didn't think about her first when we were looking for a therapist for him.”

 

“I didn't think about it either, you saw her for years after the fire. She helped you a lot.”

 

Peter gave a tender smile. If only his sister knew what the two of them really got up to during his sessions, she probably wouldn't have been so pleased. Mary was one hell of a woman.

 

“We'll see, while I talked to Stiles I told him we would be doing weekly talks between the three of us.”

 

Talia gave a hopeful look. “You're going to let me help?”

 

“Yes Alpha, I would like your help.”

 

“I'd be happy to do anything for you two Peter.” Talia's smile was warm, and for once Peter wasn't going to be a brat and look away. It was time for him to shape up as well, he had a mate to protect now. His Alpha at his side would help with anything they possibly needed.

 

His big sister had always looked out for him even when he didn't want it, but this time he was all to happy to take that help.

 

Peter picked up the tray and headed up stairs after calling goodnight to his sister. He had given Scott plenty of time to fuss over Stiles for the night.

 

The beta wolf was leaving the room as Peter got to the third floor, with a happy jump in his step Scott said good night before heading down to the next level. Peter was never more glad to have the top floor to himself then he was then. He didn't want his pack hovering.

 

Stiles had been propped up against a stack of pillows, his arm with the sling wrapped around it had a small pillow under it, the heavy cast on his leg sat on a pile of pillows. The kitten was curled up on the thing like it was its own person perch.

 

Stiles didn't seem to mind.

 

Stiles gave a sleepy smile as Peter entered the room. “Did you raid all the fruit from the kitchen?”

 

“Not at all love, I left the mango's for the heathens. Only fools eat mango's.”

 

“Mmm.” Stiles nodded. “Yes, never mango's.”

 

Peter sat the tray on the bed. Not waiting for Stiles to make a move for the plate he snagged an apple slice and placed it at Stiles lips. He opened his mouth without question and without concern when it came to Peter handling his food, if it was anyone else Stiles would never allow it.

 

“I don't know if its because I'm so tired, but that apple taste like heaven.” Pale fingers swiped up another piece before shoving it into his mouth.

 

“Well you did loss your lunch, and your strength is down since your need to heal. Food will help.”

 

Peter was pleased to note the burning scent wasn't present at the moment.

 

Stiles had moved on to the oranges, his eyes drooping closed a little more with each bite. It was no surprise he was so tired after the day he had.

 

The boys head nodded forward as if he had fallen asleep before it snapped back up.

 

He gave Peter a hesitant look. “My mom...” Peter froze, waiting. “After my dad was shot while we were trying to escape, she...”

 

Stiles shuddered. “She didn't chose me Peter.”

 

The tray was quickly placed on the night stand, the wolf was by his mate in seconds pulling the boy gently into his lap.

 

“Dad just dropped, and blood sprayed everywhere. On my skin and the trees and she just snapped. She screamed.” Stiles coughed to hide a sob. “She tried to drag his body with her, they were coming and I was begging her to run with me to keep going but she wouldn't leave. She wouldn't chose me over dad.”

 

Peter rocked him gently. “She was probably in shock sweetheart, you both were undoubtedly.”

 

Stiles shook his head. “She wouldn't even look my way, after she failed to move him she decided to fight. I didn't want to leave dad either, not there. Not like some dead animal, but I was scared and I still had mom but right then. I didn't have anyone. I was already alone because she wasn't going to chose to live for me.”

 

Stiles hiccuped rubbing at his eyes. “Why did she do that? I know she loved dad, god I loved him, too more then anything but we were still there. Still alive and she just gave up on running. I don't understand.”

 

Cupping the boys face he made him look up. His eyes were flared white. “Why didn't you run little one, after both your parents were gone?”

 

Stiles wrinkled his nose in thought. “I did for a while, but they circled around.” Stiles shuttered again. “They were suddenly in front of me and then I was shifted and my only thought was get back to mom, get back to dad.”

 

“Then I got shot in the leg so I hid, god I hid for two days I think before I was sure they were gone. I found my parents....” Stiles yawned, whipping at his teary eyes. “Seeing them like that after watching my mom... after what they did to them. I couldn't bare to leave them behind, all alone out there in the cold.”

 

Stiles sighed. “I'm afraid.” Stiles whispered his eyes dropping closed.

 

Peter knew it was wrong to ask Stiles anything while he was in such a haze but he just couldn't pass up the chance.

 

“What are you afraid of sweetheart?”

 

Stiles grumbled sleepily. “I'm scared you will see how ruined I really am and not chose me too.”

 

Peter's heart seized. Oh his poor sweet love. “I will always chose you.”

 

Always.

 

to be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you are satisfied with the punishment I dished out.   
> till next time.


	5. Peter Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for Self-harm.

Stiles was pouting. And no matter what anyone said Peter did not find that to be one of the most endearing and adorable things he had ever seen. He didn't think it was the first time he had witnessed it and he didn't think it was now.

Really he didn't. 

The teen was poking at his new brace for his shattered knee. The loss fitting cargo pants he was wearing rolled up on one side alone to keep from snagging on the metal. 

The thing looked like a death trap but if it helped keep the bones in place so Stiles would heal properly then so be it. 

“Peter.” Stiles whined from his spot on the couch. He knocked his knuckles against the metal. “Peter don't ignore me, I don't like it.” 

Peter fought to not smile. In the last week Stiles collarbone had completely healed, so had his ribs, but his knee had been so badly shattered they had to resort to desperate measures. Which left Peter with a very cranky, temperamental mate. He didn't mind of course, if anyone had the right to be pissy it was Stiles. 

Though Peter couldn't say he was being pissy, more like a whiny puppy that wasn't getting enough attention. Who would have thought he'd get so clingy when he was bound to hobble around on a pair of crutches.

It was adorable. 

“I don't like this thing Peter, it reminds me of a bear trap I got stuck in once.” Peter looked up from his book. The wolf scented the air, making sure his mates sweet scent was still like fresh fallen snow and warm honey. He was pleased to note that it was, with an underlining hint of irritation.

“How did you get out of the trap?” Stiles had been talking about his time alone ever since the night he spoke about his parents death. Only to Peter of course, and the man made it a point to never bring the subject up on his own. 

“I didn't really track time while I was out there, but it was only a month or so after my parents died if I had to guess.” Stiles paused in thought. “When I stepped into it, it caught me close to paw, if I had been running a little faster it wouldn't had got me at all.” 

Stiles wiggled his left food, as if trying to shake off the trap. “I was small so it didn't really have that great of a hold on me.” He shrugged. “I just kept pulling till I was out, my foot was kinda only holding on by some ligaments by the time I was done but since I was still in good health I healed within a week.” 

Peter pressed for a little more information. Though he didn't enjoy the mental image. “What did you do in that week?” 

How did that baby kit survive out there alone with his foot practically falling off? 

“I made my way back to my brush pile and went hungry for a week.” Another shrug like it didn't bother him, but his sweet scent soured some. Peter frowned, it was time for a change in topic. 

“Well, Deaton thinks you should only have to wear it for two weeks at the most. So no trying to take it off.” 

Stiles shot him a dirty look. “I have pins going through skin and bone Peter, I may be a bit impulsive but I don't think I'd try my hand at pulling those things out.” 

So cranky. 

Peter chuckled. “I could see you trying love, and don't think I have noticed the tool marks around the brace.” 

Stiles flushed with guilt. Then pouted again. Peter sighed, that look would be the death of him. 

“I can't shift with this thing on.” 

“That's the point sweetheart.” 

*-*-*-*-*

It was while Stiles was reading when he heard it. The angry grumble of a voice in the library, at first Stiles was just going to ignore it, because he knew who was in there and they weren't on the best of terms. 

But when the grumbling turned into loud cursing Stiles hobbled to his feet, using his crutches to lift him and made his way towards the double doors. 

Cautiously he opened the door poking his head in to see Erica at the wide table, books scattered around her. Paper was on the floor balled up and crumpled. A note paid torn to shreds. He almost turned around and left but when Erica dropped her head to the table with an loud thump he made his way inside. 

“Erica?” The girls head shot up so fast Stiles about jumped out of his skin. 

“Oh, Stiles.” The girls eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” 

The fox bit his lip at the girls annoyed voice. “Are you okay?” 

Those pretty eyes moved back towards her books. “Harris is a dick.” 

Stiles gave a shocked laugh. The wolfs lips twitched as if she wanted to smile. Then she growled before tossing a book across the room. 

“Did he give out an assignment you're having trouble with?” 

“He always gives out assignment's that give me trouble, I swear he does it to make us look and feel like idiots. What do I care about the corrosiveness of different types of metals!” 

Taking a chance Stiles sat in the chair next to her, placing his leg to the side of his so it wouldn't get in his way. 

“Would you like some help?” 

Erica side eyed him. “Why would you help me?” 

Stiles frowned at the question. “Why wouldn't I help you, you're pack. I like to help the people I care about.” 

The she wolf suddenly looked guilty. “I haven't really been all that nice to you Stiles, so you don't need to take time out of your day to help with this project.” 

The fox gave a small smile. “I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with, I can't expect everyone to understand and I honestly don't expect you to. You don't have any obligation to like me just because I'm part of this pack. But I care about everyone in this pack, so if your struggling in any way I'd like to help if I can.” 

She sighed. “I was jealous.” 

Stiles gave another loud laugh. “Good god why, I have more issues then even I know what to do with.” 

“Everyone was so accommodating to you, and you wouldn't have to ask for anything and suddenly you had it anyways. And now that I said it out loud I sound like a freaking spoiled brat, Jesus no wonder Peter's been giving me the stink eye.” 

“This pack is very kind.” Stiles whispers. 

Erica smiled softly. “They really are, I was so miserable before I was a wolf. I had really bad seizures all the time, getting teased at school when I dropped to do the whole full body spasm thing. Then I meet Derek and he said he'd ask his mom if she would help. I was in and out of hospitals so much I jumped at the chance. Even though it had its risks it would have been so much better then that.” 

“I'm glad it worked, you make a great wolf.” 

Erica glanced his way. Stiles blushed. “You really are the sweetest thing aren't you.” His face grow warmer at her words. 

“I'm not trying to be, it's.” He waved his hands in front of his face. “I'm just being me.” 

The wolf looked at him for a long moment, chewing on her lip. Stiles held his breath, he didn't know what was coming but he had a feeling if he answered wrong any friendship they might possibly have would fly out of his reach. 

“When you were alone, in those wood. Did you ever think about running away to find help?” 

Stiles couldn't have been more god-smacked if he tried. Erica came from so far left field with her question it left him spinning. 

“Yes.” He answered. “After about two months maybe? I had been hurt before that so getting around was hard. Leaving my parents was even worse, but it was really dark one night and the trees and earth was making this god awful sound with an approaching storm.” 

He closed his eyes to the memory, trying to breath past his panic. “I ran for hours, and there was this old ratty house in the trees but when I finally got there the person that came out.” 

Stiles shuddered. “He was terrifying. He smelled strange, he was no human that was for sure and I could tell he knew I wasn't a normal fox and not just because of my tails. He came at me with an ax so I ran. My only thought escape, get back. It's safe there, its safe. Even if it wasn't actually safe it was better then that man trying to chop me up.” 

“He had this nasty horde of dogs with him, I think they had been dead at some point because they smelled like rotting flesh.” 

It was getting harder to breathe. 

“He sent them after me, they chased me for hours. I ran in all kinds of directions so they wouldn't pick up my scent and find my den but one kept up with me the whole time. I don't even really know how I got out alive to be honest, it mauled me twice before I finally made it to safety.” 

Stiles took a deep breath to calm himself. “I couldn't work up the nerve to try again. Plus I spent a bit of time trying to heal from those wounds next.” 

Erica's eyes were misty with tears. “Did nothing good ever happen in those woods?” She asked quietly. 

Stiles smiled. “I met Peter.” 

*-*-*-*-*

Peter quietly took his leave from beside the library door. Comfortable in the fact that Stiles was in no danger from being so close to the easily angered girl. He knew it would happen in time, Erica warming up to Stiles. And it was no surprise that Stiles had finally been the one to try to mend the gap between the two of them. 

What had been surprising was Stiles willingness to speak about his past to a girl who hadn't shown him any kindness since she first returned home. 

Peter found himself in the kitchen a coffee cup in hand and a book in the other. Still in ear shot of the library and his mate. 

His beautiful mate who hadn't even realized he had just shaken himself out of a panic attack as it built. It was amazing what one week could do with that boy, how extraordinary he truly was. 

After being attacked by Jackson other then the panic attack in the locker room his little fox hadn't had once since. He knew the attack had left some lasting effect besides the wounds, but other then an extra flinch here and there Stiles was okay. 

Once he went back to school was a whole other story. Jackson would be there, not that Peter was worried the little prick would try anything after the beating he got. 

But in the back of his mind he still worried. Jackson could attack again not of his own freewill if his little bitch of a girlfriend commanded it. And if in any case she tried, well Peter would have her head as a trophy. 

They would just have to see what the next couple of days brought. 

 

*-*-*-*-*

Stiles had a wall of werewolves in front of him. It would have been amusing if it wasn't for the fact that all eyes were now on them. He wasn't a fan of being the center of attention seeing as the last time he was it had caused him problems. 

But Erica had turned into this scary protective beast over night and that was more terrifying the all eyes being on him. 

He had told her it hadn't been needed, but she said something to Scott about escorting him to all his classes and then it was all down hill from there. 

So now he was stumbling behind the great wall of werewolf. Boyd was dead center in front of him, a large wall of solid muscle Stiles couldn't even see past. Erica was to his left arm wrapped around his, glaring at everyone who dared to peek Stiles way. 

Isaac was at Stiles back his tale frame keeping anyone from getting to close to his slow moving feet. Scott, sweet puppy Scott stood to Boyd's left back straight as a board arms loss at his side ready to strike out at any moment. 

Stiles sighed and last Cora. The worst of all because twice now Stiles had caught her snapping her damn teeth at people. It was a good thing people thought she was crazy, so they didn't think to hard about the fact she was acting like a mama wolf with her pup. 

Werewolves. Really, Stiles didn't even know why he wasted his breath when these lunatics were concerned. 

They stopped at his first class and to Stiles great surprise and possible horror they all entered except Cora who walked off. 

“What are you doing? Shouldn't you be getting to class?” 

Scott smiled. “We are in class Stiles.” 

Blinking in confusion Stiles made his way to the back and took his set. It was then he noticed the whole back roll was empty. His pack mates sat. 

“Wait... What?” 

“We had a friend of mine Danny hack the schools system and change our schedules.” Scott said happily. Like he hadn't just admitted to breaking the law. 

“Won't someone notice five students all changing to the sames classes?” Only an idiot would miss something like that. 

“Who cares, no one is stupid enough to say anything. We are part of Talia Hales family as far as the town is concerned. And with Talia Hale comes Peter, and no one wants to get on his bad side.” Stiles looked towards Erica who was grinning. 

“Why does everyone talk about him like he's the devil?” Did no one see how amazing Peter was? How kind and loving he could be? 

“Because Peter Hale is the devil.” Boyd deadpans. He shrugs when Stiles raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Look there is something you need to learn real fast, no one gets in Talia's way. But not even god himself would mess with Peter, that dude is all kinds of psycho no one wants to play with.” 

What the hell had Peter done to terrify a whole town of people?

*-*-*-*-*

By lunch time the whole school was talking but Stiles was pleased to say not a single person had bothered him. Sure there was whispers that were so far from the truth that Stiles laughed when he heard them but no one had bumped him, looked at him funny or uttered his name. 

It was amazing what could come from a name like Hale. 

As he ate Stiles scanned the room looking for Jackson. He wasn't scared to be honest, just curious. Peter had finally gotten around to telling Stiles what he was and now he was fascinated. He probably shouldn't be but he was. 

It wasn't every day someone turned into a botched werewolf. 

He found the guy sitting alone at a table in the far back corner. A table from the few times Stiles had actually attended school knew no one sat at. It was to dark over there, and quiet for anyone's liking. It might as well have been the gates of hell with how everyone avoided it. 

Any time Stiles had seen Jackson at lunch he had been with a large group of his friends, laughing and having a good time. But now, he was all alone and for some wild reason that didn't set well with Stiles. 

Why wasn't anyone of his friends with him? 

Stiles took another bite of his food, then flinched when a carton of milk went sailing across the cafeteria smacking Jackson right in the face. 

Stiles was waiting for him to get up and attack but all he did was whip the milk off his face and slide farther into his chair. 

His friends roared with laughter. 

What the hell was going on here? 

Isaac answered his silent question. “Lydia black listed his ass, most of the students have been attacking him all day and he hasn't done anything in return.” 

“Nothing at all?” That didn't seem right. 

“I heard Lydia talking to him in the hallway this morning, she gave him an order that he wasn't allowed to stand up for himself. With him being a kanima he has to follow it. Chick was pissed because soon apparently her grandma is shipping her off to some boarding school that is the equivalent of a prison.” Erica says. 

Stiles turned back towards Jackson. Just to see someones plate of spaghetti land on his head before falling to his chest. Someone whistled happily. When Jackson stood to his feet the fox finally thought he was going to break his order but all he did was walk along the wall and slip out of the lunch room. 

He left a trail of spaghetti behind him. 

“Okay, I don't want to be the one to say this since Jackson picked on me for the longest time, but that's kinda sad.” Stiles had to agree with Scott on that one. 

The bell rang then signaling the end of lunch. 

“Okay, next period is the only one we don't have with you, but as soon as the bell rings we will be waiting for you okay? If you need us before then just text.” 

*-*-*-*-*

It should have terrified him that the only class no one had with him was gym. The locker room alone should have been making his heart jump out of his chest. He didn't feel a thing and he sure the hell was not going to question that. 

As normal the locker room was loud, but since Stiles couldn't join in he just sat on a bench reading his book while everyone got ready and headed towards the track. He didn't see a point in making his way outside, and the coach said he could stay as long as he didn't dick off. 

His words, honest to god. 

He was three chapters in when he finally registered the sound of one of the showers running. Curiosity was a bad trait for a fox to have, but Stiles couldn't change what he was so he moved towards the sound. Leaving his crutches leaning against the locker doors. 

Stiles had been expecting to find one of his classmates had returned to shower early. 

What he found was much more horrifying. 

“Jesus Christ!” As fast as his leg would let him he slid into the shower grabbing Jackson's bloody arm. 

A thin metal rod was shoved clear through his forearm and out the other side, blood was flowing like someone had forgotten to turn off the tap. He glanced towards the guys face he had pressed against the cool tile ground. 

The running shower head above them was ice cold. 

Without thinking Stiles pulled the thing from Jackson's arm and tossed it away. Ripping into is flannel shirt he roped it around the bloody hole and held tight. 

Jackson was a kanima so he would heal, he would heal. The teen gave a slow blink as his blood finally stopped trying to escape his body. 

Leaning forward, even when his knee protested then movement Stiles tapped on Jackson's cheek. Relieved when it twitched under his had. 

“Jackson?” 

Another slow blink. “S'was ordered to die.” 

Oh, oh god. He did this to himself? All because he was ordered too? How sick was that? 

“Well I'm not going to let you do that, so sit up.” Stiles pulled the limp kid up, propping his against the shower stall. 

“Have too.” He mumbled. Jackson made a poor attempt to pull his arm away. “Lyd's said so.” 

Stiles gave an angry snarl. Jackson flinched. Jackson Whittemore fucking flinched. And that made Stiles want to be sick. 

“I don't give a shit what Lydia fucking Martin says. I said I won't let you so you won't” 

“You should just let me.” Jesus how did this whole master thing work. 

*-*-*-*-*

Stiles didn't know how it really happened but he found himself and a still dazed Jackson hiding in a janitors closet far from any of his classes and nosy pack-mates. He sent a text to let them know he was fine and just hiding out because his leg hurt. 

Not really a lie, but he could tell them he was hiding with a lizard trying to commit suicide. And of course Scott had all but demanded they skip and go home. Being the mother hen that he was he told Scott he couldn't afford to miss more school. His grades couldn't fall anymore, Scott dropped the subject real quick. 

So now he was practically sitting on Jackson's lap, tapping his face every once in a while when the guys eyes started to close. 

Jackson wasn't healing like he should be, he wasn't bleeding as bad but Stiles had to change the bandages three times already. Stiles couldn't figure out why, was it because of the order? 

“Why aren't you healing Jackson?” 

The guy gave a long slow blink. “Not allowed.” 

Okay, shit. Apparently it did work that way, and that... That was totally fucked if he really thought about it. 

“I don't wanna be this.” Jackson says suddenly, startling Stiles out of his own mind. 

“What don't you want to be?” 

“Kanima, fucking lizard that has to take orders.” Jackson looked away. “Freaking slave to my keeper.” 

So Jackson didn't see Lydia as his girlfriend, good to know but that didn't really help Stiles. He needed to get this guy to stop bleeding all over the place. 

“Can you break an order?” It couldn't be that hard could it? Then again Stiles wasn't so sure, Jackson had been letting the whole school attack him all day. Bullheaded, big strong jock Whittemore let himself, get shoved into lockers. Tripped and food thrown at him and hadn't said a single word in his own defense.

“No, hard wired into my DNA. Need a master to keep me from losing my shit and going on a murder spree.” 

Well then... It was good the jacked up werewolf turning had a fall back, but when you had a master like it wasn't really all that idea. 

“Can you change masters?” 

Jackson's body jolted, a harsh sob ripped from his throat making Stiles flinch at the loud sound in the quite room. 

“No, I've already tried. Dad tried to be my master.” Jackson gave a startled laugh. “He's not much better an option though so I guess that's okay.” 

Stiles pulled a face. “What do you mean? Isn't your dad a respected businessman?” 

A poor attempt of a snarl left Jackson's throat. “Apparently not, I broke into his office and dug through his desk. He was under suspicion once for the rape and murder of a few girls. No DNA proof so the charges were dropped. Peter said it was him though.” 

The silent, why would Peter lie was left hanging in the air. 

Ugh, okay. Stiles was in a jam here, he really didn't want to leave Jackson to bleed out in a dirty closet. He also didn't want to leave him under the thumb of his bitch of a girlfriend. 

Stiles laid a hand over his heart. 

“Why do you even care, you are literally the last person who should care about what happens to me.” 

The lizard had a point, Stiles knew he did but he couldn't shake the feeling he needed to help. Be it because he was an omega who liked to help, or his lunar fox side. He wanted to help Jackson, plus if he hadn't been ordered Stiles was pretty sure the jock would have stuck to the standard bullying. 

That wasn't all that compared to what happened. 

“Everyone needs help from time to time.” 

Jackson grimaced. “Go to class Stilinski, stop messing with me and go to class.” There was no heat in Jackson's words though it sounded like he had tried. 

“See here is the difference between you and me. I don't have to follow directions and in most cases I don't. So no, I think I'll stay right here till I figure out what the hell I'm going to do.” 

 

*-*-*-*-*

As it turns out, Stiles didn't have to do anything because twenty minutes into sitting in the damn dark closet. Jackson's heart finally stopped after his body gave up on trying to produce more blood at the rate he was losing it. 

And Stiles? He panicked. Jumping back he flipped the guy around and onto his back and started pounding on his chest. He got no satisfaction at the sound of the guy's rips breaking. 

“You are so not allowed to die in a closet you fucking idiot!” Stiles shouted, he was manually pumping Jackson's heart. 

He wasn't all that sure how you did CPR but he tried anyways, tilting the guys head back and breathing into his mouth before starting compression's again. 

If you asked Stiles after what went down today, he would tell you he wasn't really sure. All he knew was suddenly his magic flared in his chest and the very dead Jackson shifted. 

And not into a lizard, he was a wolf. A large multicolored wolf, his fur dark shade and brown and blonde. It was pretty but Stiles didn't really have time to process that when he fell back on his ass. 

The wolf, Jackson whined rolling over onto his feet looking around wildly. 

“Jackson?” The wolf whimpered, standing in a pile of shredded clothes looking dazed. 

“Dude, I'm...” Oh shit, Stiles turned Jackson into a werewolf. 

“Okay, we need to get out of here.” Stiles stood, it was hard to do in such a small space but he got to his feet and easily found Jackson's keys. 

“So, I'm going to drive us to my house.” The look Jackson gave him clearly said. Do you even know how to drive?

Stiles didn't, but it couldn't be that hard could it. The challenge was going to be sneaking a wolf of Jackson's size through the hallways of the high school, with a hobbling crippled kid beside it. 

Peter was going to kill him. 

*-*-*-*-*

Driving was actually fun, even more so when he decided to lay on the gas once they were on a straight shot to the Hale house. Plus the terrified look on Jackson's wolfy face was so worth it. Stiles was so going to ask to get his drivers license once Peter calmed down about the whole bringing a now Jackson werewolf home with him. Jackson gave a sharp bark when Stiles slid into the drive way, dust flying and the motor purring loudly. 

He was grinning like a fool by the time he had the car stopped and shut off. 

*-*-*-*-*

The one thing Talia had not been expecting to happen today was a very worried looking Stiles walking into the kitchen while she put up groceries with a large wolf at his side. 

So close to his side the thing might has well been attached to him like a extra limb. 

That wolf was not one of hers. 

“Stiles?” 

The fox shifted on his feet nervously. “Um hi.” The boy gave an awkward wave, his other hand running through the wolfs fur. The thing at his side was purring happily at the attention. 

“Who's that?” 

“Uh, it's... Jackson.” 

Talia couldn't be more surprised if Stiles had just tackled her to the floor and mauled her. 

“Jackson, Jackson Whittemore?” 

“I... yes?” Talia moved forward as she smelled the boys growing anxiety. 

“Okay, sweetie it's okay. Just tell me what happened. 

The words fell out of the boys mouth like crashing waves. “I was in gym reading, and I head the shower going but when I went to check I found Jackson bleeding all over the place. He had stabbed himself with some metal rob and left it in so he would bleed out. Lydia had ordered him to die, after she had the whole school attacking him and kept him from sticking up for himself. I got the thing out but he wouldn't heal. So we moved to a closet to hide during the next class.” Stiles took a gasped breath. “His heart stopped and he died, but my magic did something and then he turned into a wolf and I didn't know what to do so we sneaked out of school.” 

Stiles was panting, his anxiety climbing tenfold. Talia was at his side in moments, a hand on his neck and another on his chest rubbing soothing circles. 

“Okay, shh. It's okay sweetie you did great.” 

When he didn't look like he was going to calm the wolf at their feet gave a low whine, bumping his head against Stiles leg. 

“Okay, lets sit sweetie, come on.” Talia turned Stiles towards the living room practically holding him up as she sat him on the couch. Stiles dropped his head to his knees, still breathing heavily. 

The wolf Jackson trotted forward still whining. Again he bumped that large head against Stiles, this time along his face. Stiles took a deep breath, his heart rate which had skyrocketed finally started to slow to a more reasonable pace. 

Kneeling in front of him Talia took his face into her hands. “You okay now?” 

“Yes ma'am, I'm sorry.” 

Talia smiled. “Everything's fine. Do you want to tell me what sent you into a panic attack?” 

Stiles chewed his lip. “Are you mad?” 

Talia blinked confused. Mad? “No, honey. Why would I be mad?” 

“Because, I brought Jackson to the house? I know no one is happy with him about what he did but it wasn't really his fault. And I couldn't just let him die like that.” 

“Ah, no honey, I'm not mad. We are not happy with Jackson, but I understand where you're coming from and I'm so glad you have such a kind heart and was willing to help him.” 

“Peter isn't going to be happy.” 

That's when Talia understood, it wasn't because he left school or turned Jackson into a wolf. Which she would figure that one out later. It was more his fear of upsetting Peter then anyone else. 

“Peter would never be upset with you over this. Jackson didn't hurt you did he?” 

The fox shook his head frantically. “No, Jackson wanted me to leave him to die.” 

Talia looked down at the wolf at Stiles side, the pup had his tail tucked under his belly and his ears laying flat. The poor thing looked dejected. It almost made her warm up to him, but she loved Stiles and it would take more the puppy dog eyes to forgive the boy just yet. Order or not he had hurt one of her pack pups. 

“Do you forgive Jackson for what he did?” 

“Well, I mean I didn't actually blame Jackson and any doubts I had about the whole master thing fled the when I saw what was happening to him at school. He really couldn't go against anything she told him to do.” 

“You're right a kanima can't go against it's master.” 

“What's going to happen to him now?” 

That was the golden question wasn't it. 

*-*-*-*-* 

The one thing Peter hadn't been expecting to come home to was his Mate sitting on a couch with a large wolf laying across his lap looking sheepish as the other teens glared down at the pair. 

Eyes narrowed Peter slid up next to Stiles and dropped a hand to the back of his neck. Stiles didn't look hurt, and his scent and heartbeat were good. Plus his sister was seated on a plush chair watching the angry teens. 

“Someone want to explain to me what's going on?” Peter felt Stiles tense under his hand. He soothed the boy by sliding his thumb in calming circles on the back of his neck. 

“That.” Cora pointed angrily to the wolf on Stiles lap. “Is the dick nut Jackson Whittemore.” 

Peter coughed to hid his surprise, Stiles coiled tighter in on himself. “First Cora dear. Dick nut? I know you can do better then that. And two how did this happen?” 

He needed to process what was happening before he reacted in any way. He didn't want to upset Stiles more then he was, and the wolf didn't seem to be a threat. So Peter was content to leaving it be for the moment until he got more information. 

He could be a reasonable man. 

Most of the time. Okay, none of the time unless it concerned Stiles. 

Talia cleared her throat. “Lydia not only turned the school into a witch hunt where Jackson was concerned, first she commanded him to not defend himself.”

Scott shifted on his feet, drawing everyone's attention. “It got pretty bad, I saw a few of the guys attack him a couple of time, and at lunch people were throwing food at him. Stiles didn't know until then though.” 

“That's because I didn't really have a good view point while walking the halls with the great wall of werewolf in front of me.” Stiles sassed. 

Peter smiled at that. So the kids had actually followed through with their morning plan, he glanced towards Stiles. The boy looked annoyed but he smelled happy. 

Peter was all for a happy mate. 

“Stiles said after we left him at gym class he found Jackson in the shower bleeding to death.” Scott whispered looking Jackson over as if checking for wounds. 

The wolf whined, and to Peter's great amusement Stiles slid his fingers through the multicolored fur making the wolf purr.

“The damn things being all clingy and purring with Stiles!” Erica whines with a stomp of her foot. For a girl who didn't like him two days ago she sure sounded offended by this. 

“What happened after you found him sweetheart?” Stiles grew stiff again. Peter squeezed his neck. 

“Um we kinda did this awkward shuffle to a closet and hid?” He shifted worrying at his lip. “I didn't really know what to do, and I didn't think they would help Jackson.” 

“Damn right we wouldn't have helped.” Cora mumbles with a growl. 

Peter cut a glare her way shutting her up. 

“He wouldn't heal, because Lydia told him he could. I didn't think that was actually possible to be honest but the proof was the guy just kept bleeding all over the place. Then his heart stopped and he died.”  
Wide amber eyes looking up at Peter pleading for him to understand. “I couldn't let him die Peter, then my magic did something and I suddenly had vary large confused wolf on my hands.” 

“Okay, how did you get home?” 

Stiles flinched. Talia sniffed as if trying to hold in a laugh. “Um I drove Jackson's car?” 

Peter took a breath to calm himself. His mate, his Stiles had drove a car a good five miles home after never being behind a wheel before. 

Talia laughed then, making Stiles jump. “Please don't.” The boy said giving Talia a sad but hopeful look. 

“I'm sorry sweetie, but if he found out from anyone else he's going to be furious.” 

Peter growled. “Found what out?” 

“Jordan called.” Talia starts. “It seems he spotted our little fox over there in Jackson's car, flying down the road a good ninety miles an hour. Jordan said he would have stopped him, but he was driving really well and he looked to be in a hurry so he would let it slid this once. He also demanded we get the kid his license so he wouldn't get a trip to jail for driving without one.” 

If it was at all possible Stiles anxiety climbed to knew heights. Oh Peter wanted to be mad, he wanted to be furious but his little mate look so worried and smelled so scared that Peter deflated before he could even work the emotions into play. 

Plus oddly enough the wolf on Stiles lap reacted to the distressing scent of the boy he sat on. With a loud yip the thing bumped his head against Stiles face whining. 

To Peter's amazement and great pleasure Stiles calmed, his scent once again sugary sweet. 

“See, that shit right there! He keeps rubbing all over Stiles like he owns him or something!” Erica shouts reaching forward to grab the wolf. 

Stiles bats her hand away. “Be nice.” Stiles warns. 

“But.. What? He's...” The girl was at a lose for words. “Stiles!” 

Stiles smiled at the whiny tone. “He's fine.” 

Maybe he was. 

*-*-*-*-* 

They couldn't get Jackson to shift back. Either he couldn't or he was to scared to, and if Peter had to guess he would say it was the second option. Why would anyone want to shift in a house full of wolves who might try to maim you. 

As far as the new wolf was concerned he was safest on Stiles lap, which he hadn't moved from for the past three hours. 

Peter wanted to be jealous he really did, but Stiles kept giving him the prettiest of smiles and he just couldn't find that emotion. 

How could anyone be jealous when their mate looked at them like that. 

“What's going to happen now?” Stiles asks after a while. 

The others had finally given up on trying to make Jackson stop being so clingy and left the room in a fit of angry grumbles. Talia had laughed as she headed off to make dinner. 

“We'll give Jackson a trial run as part of the pack, but if he messes up in anyway. Talia is going to be sending him to a different pack. We can't have him with us if he is going to be trouble, we are a large pack. Most of the adults have jobs and their own things to worry about so we don't really have any spare hands to help deal with a rebelling wolf. 

“I can handle Jackson.” Peter smiled, he had no doubt that Stiles could handle the beast. The damn thing was puddy in Stiles hands. 

Peter glared over at the wolf. “You get one chance, and only one. If you mess this up your gone, and Stiles won't be able to save you. A pack sticks together, they help everyone. No exceptions. You so much as sneeze wrong and your gone. Got it?” Peter flashed eyes at the things.

Jackson's flared green in answer. 

O...kay. 

That, that wasn't something Peter knew how to deal with. 

“Talia!” Peter shouted, though it wasn't really needed. “I'm calling Deaton, something's fishy about this wolf.” 

Go figure. 

*-*-*-*-*

You would swear they were trying to neuter the wolf with how much whining he was doing as Deaton looked him over. 

Peter stood back watching Stiles leaning into his side, his big eyes watchful as Alan made his way around the wolf. He could smell Stiles unease, he always could when Deaton was around but today it was so much thicker. 

Peter was willing to bet his scent wasn't all that pleasant to either. Not with the little dark haired brat standing next to the vet bouncing on the heels of her feet. 

“So he was originally a kanima, then he died and Stiles brought him back and now he's a wolf.” The gleeful tone of Jennifer's voice was grating on Peter's nerves. They hadn't had the displeasure of having to deal with her recently but if she was back in town now... 

Well, Peter could feel a storm brewing. 

“Fascinating.” Jennifer poked at Jackson with her finger. 

And to everyone's surprise a snarl ripped for Stiles throat. The Druid jumped back eyes wide. 

“Stop poking at him like a some damn mutant experiment.” 

Jennifer sneered. “He kinda is.” 

Another snarl rumbled in Stiles chest. Peter pulled the boy close to him, he had never seen Stiles angry before and didn't know how he would react if the girl kept at him. 

“What's your problem?” 

Peter gave his own rumbled warning. The little brat was skating on thin ice. 

“My problem is he's mine. Now back off!” A warm pine scent filled the air, Jennifer was lifted off her feet and slamming into the wall. She crumbled to the floor. 

Intrigued Peter looked down towards his little to see his eyes burning white. 

Talia came rushing into the room followed by a horde of teenager's and shocked pack members who had stopped by for a visit. 

Talia looked towards the downed girl who was just now picking herself off the floor. She raised an eyebrow. 

“Care to explain?” 

Stiles roared, making Peter and everyone jump. “Don't touch him.” 

Deaton slowly backed away from the wolf, Peter moved a bit back not out of fear but because Stiles voice had taken on an echo of sorts. 

“You stupid little...” Jennifer slammed into the wall again. 

“Don't.” The boy warned his head tilted to the side. 

Ah, Peter understood now. The fox was in control. Talia took a slow step forward beckoning for the kids to stay put. 

Jennifer opened her mouth to speak again. 

Deaton shouted. “Keep your mouth shut you fool. For all the studying you have apparently been doing you skipped over the part about not enraging a lunar fox when its familiar has shown itself.” 

The Druid froze. “Oh of course the little shit would have a were as a familiar.” 

Peter had the girl by her throat before she could take her next breath.” “I'd watch myself if I was you.” 

“Peter.” Talia warned. 

“Jackson, go to Stiles.” Deaton demands, keeping a good distance away from the creature. The wolf jumped off the table and hurried to Stiles side. Bumping his head against the boys knee, his eyes changed back to the pretty honey brown. 

Peter turned his head to check on his mate. A mistake on his part turning his eyes away from the Druid in his hands. 

The pain didn't register until Stiles was screaming his name. The world moved in slow images. He blinked looking down at the hand that had found its way through his chest. Blinked as Jennifer smiled as him. 

Blinked and the girl was dropped to the floor. She licked her bloody fingers. 

“Peter!” Stiles scream echoed in his ears.

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did that.  
> The cliffhanger and the thing with Jackson...  
> I have a soft spot for the jerk.  
> Sorry about Peter.


	6. Omega Rage

 

 

 

“No, no, no, no.” Why was there so much blood. He couldn't understand it, why Peter was bleeding so much. Why there was a large hole in his chest, He tried not to gag at the feel of the damaged skin under his hard. Tried not to look at Peter's blood seeping through his fingers.

 

There was a frenzy of movement around him. Jackson's wolf form had a hold of one of Jennifer's arm. Talia sat on her chest, her hand wrapped around her throat snarling so loudly the windows were rattling.

 

“Peter, Peter.” The bleeding wolf looked down at the gaping hole in his chest.

 

“That's unpleasant.” He grunted, Stiles cried at the blood slipping from his lips.

 

A large pool of blood was forming under his body, painting the pale hardwood floors red. Stiles hands shook.

 

Why was there so much blood.

 

“Peter, Peter.” He couldn't form any other words. His mouth refused to woke for him. Refused to say anything else.

 

He pressed down harder on the wound. Stiles needed to get it to stop bleeding, but his hand wasn't a good enough dam. He needed something, anything.

 

A blanket sat on the chair to his left, its was one Stiles liked to curl up in and read. He grabbed it, even when he didn't want to move his hands away. He grabbed the thing balling up one end and pressed down as hard as he could.

 

His arms were shaking with the force, but the blood just wouldn't stop. A large hand rested on top of his, long thick fingers grip Stiles own.

 

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

 

Stiles didn't understand, he was breathing. Peter was the one bleeding out.

 

“Shut up.” Just shut up. Everyone needed to be quiet and shut up. It was to loud, to much movement to much everything.

 

Peter shuddered. Stiles head jerked up. He cried out. “Talia! T-Talia help me. H-He's.”

 

His eyes were closed. He grabbed Peter's face shaking him. “Wake up, now. Wake up now!”

 

Stiles rocked forward on his knees, hissing with the damn brace dug into his skin. He grabbed the thing ripping out the pins and metal bolts holding his bones in place. Tossing it aside the moved forward, bloody hands holding Peter's face once more.

 

“You're not allow to do this. You're not allowed to leave me too.” He whispered.

 

“Peter?” Tear's blurred his vision. He screamed, slamming his hand against Peter's chest.

 

“Wake up!”

 

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Erica was pulling Stiles away from Peter's body, giving Talia and Deaton room to work. The fox was shaking, screaming on a constant steam of air. The sound echoing in the room, his honey eyes wild, his leg bleeding.

 

Peter's blood coated his skin. Changed his sweet scent coppery.

 

“Wake up!” The boy screamed. “Wake the fuck up!”

 

Erica tightened her hold. Trying to keep him in her arms. Keep him from rushing forward and getting in the way.

 

Erica wanted Boyd to be home. She needed him.

 

Her eyes slid to the right, Jackson had his teeth wrapped around the girls neck. Snarling and drooling like a rabid animal. His eyes bright green and fierce. Scott and Isaac stood close by in case the girl tried to make a break for it.

 

She was laughing. Giggling like a manic. James came running into the room sliding down beside his wife. His hands falling on top of hers to help stop the blood flow.

 

Peter wasn't moving, wasn't glaring like he normally would. No smartass remark, or smirk.

 

He was so still.

 

“Always!” Stiles screams. “You promised you would always be here. So wake up!”

 

Tears were rolling down Erica's face. Stiles screams and sobs was the only sound in the room beside the horrid laugh coming form the druid bitch.

 

“Is he dead yet?” She sang. “Dead Peter, dead Peter.” She laughed.

 

Stiles erupted, breaking out of Erica's hold and charging towards Jennifer. Erica didn't know what she really expected him to do. But shoving Jackson out of the way and grabbing the girl around the throat before he slammed her into a window was not what she had in mind.

 

“Shut the fuck up.” That musical echo was back in his voice, but with so much more murderous rage in it that Erica shrank back some.

 

Erica had seen Stiles in many ways, happy, sad, sobbing, panicked but never rage. When she looked at Stiles the last think she ever expected to see out of him was such an intense emotion. His normal pretty face was set in a stone mask. Eyes burning white like a solar flare.

 

“Dead Peter.” She repeated.

 

A quick flick of his wrist he snapped the girls arm, her bone tore through her skin, and finally that laugh dropped into a scream of agony.

 

“You tell me why.” He didn't need to elaborate. One wide eye began to flare purple.

 

An omega's rage.

 

The walls shook with it, the window behind the girls back cracking as Stiles magic let lose.

 

“They paid me.” She laughed, hiccuped. Blood pouring down her arm, and still she smiled. “Paid me to get close, into the house and around the great Hale pack. Oh it was so easy, a Druid girl looking to learn from the best.”

 

She leaned forward her mouth sickening close to Stiles, the fox snarled.

 

“I was suppose to take out Talia first, kill the alpha. Let the pack fall into ruins. But Peter, he's was so close, so suspicious of me. No one noticed. Only Peter, and no one would listen to him, his Alpha disregarding his worries for stubbornness.”

 

She giggled. “How could I pass up the chance to take out Peter Hale, his blood was so sweet.”

 

A swift shift of Stiles knee snapped the bone in the girls left leg. She cried out, followed by a crackle of laughter.

 

“They're coming for you.”

 

“Who!?” James snarled, his wife still working frantically on her brother.

 

“I didn't ask names, didn't care to be honest. It was just to fun a chance to pass up.”

 

There was no skip in her heart. No out words sign of a lie.

 

“Dead Peter, Dead.” It happened so quick, so fast if she hadn't been staring so hard she would have missed it. Tree roots shot through the window impaling the girl through the throat and chest.”

 

She gagged, a waterfall of blood flooded from her mouth.

 

Slowly Stiles moved back, head cocked to the side. Mismatched eyes set ablaze with madness.

 

“Dead Jennifer.” He whispered. Then he turned his back on her, limping his way towards Peter's still form.

 

Talia was leaned over her brother sobbing. It was then Erica noticed, the lack of a heart beat.

 

The dropping of glass on the floor had her eyes moving back towards the Druid, hanging from the branches like some sick decoration. The roots were growing, wrapping themselves around her form. Pulling her out of the house and into the yard.

 

Dimly she felt herself stand, stumbling towards the window to see what was happening.

 

The large oak tree was dragging the girl across the grass, the blood dripping from her body soaking into the soil as if it had never been there. She watched, stunned as the earth opened swallowing the corpse before sealing shut.

 

The leaves of the great oak tree faded to red.

 

The quiet melody of Stiles voice pulled her eyes back towards Peter. The fox was kneeling again, hands pressed over the nasty wound.

 

“You promised, Always.” Talia let out another sob.

 

“Peter?” Stiles whispered. “You're not allowed to leave me all alone.”

 

Erica didn't know if she could watch this. She had never witnessed someone die before, had never seen a dead body until now. Jennifer's didn't even register.

 

But Peter was pack, Peter was Stiles mate and he was laying dead at his knees.

 

“Please.” The boy begged.

 

She wanted to close her eyes, look away. Anything, but she couldn't, even if she wasn't near Stiles in that moment. Even it she wasn't the one sitting next to him as he leaned over his dead mate, she couldn't leave him alone to face this hardship.

 

“I'm so sorry.” Talia cried, a bloody hand going to her mouth. “So sorry.”

 

Stiles sat, legs folded, tears trailing down his face unchecked. “He'll wake up.”

 

Erica choked on a sob. “Stiles?”

 

“He'll wake up.” The boy repeated, his voice nothing but a broke whisper. Eye's vacant.

 

Scott finally moved, Isaac watched him, back pressed against the wall some pack mate Erica couldn't place a name with stood beside him.

 

“You'll see.” Stiles says, his eyes staring at nothing. “He'll wake up.”

 

A wind was whipping up outside, the sound of the leaves swaying was impossibly loud in the room.

 

A single red leaf floated in the window dancing across the floor before landing on Peter's chest.

 

“He'll wake up.” Stiles repeats, like some cruel broken record.

 

He smiled. “Wake up my Alpha.”

 

Peter gasped awake.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

A heart beat thumped loudly in his ears, a sweet melody he could detect from miles away. It was loud and frantic. A pace so fast it was a wonder it hadn't jumped from it's protective shell. He ached to sooth it, wanting to calm the wild pace.

 

A voice he knew all to well, calling his name. Begging him.

 

“Peter?” A broken whispered call. “You're not allowed to leave me all alone.”

 

Never sweetheart, he wanted to answer. But his mouth refused to work, his body to heavy to move.

 

“Please.” Stiles cried.

 

It broke his heart. Being the reason behind that broken voice. Hurt more that his damned body refused to move. His mate needed him, and he was just laying around like some damn wolf skinned rug.

 

Someone was apologizing. Over and over. An echo of sound drowned out by the sound of his mates sobs.

 

“He'll wake up.” The hopelessness in that voice tore at him. But his body refused to do as he bid.

 

Someone called Stiles name. A choked sob that faded into the back of Peter's mind.

 

“He'll wake up. You'll see. He'll wake up.”

 

The scent of pine flowed over the smell of death and blood. A warm breeze brushed along his cheek. So inviting and soothing. Caressing his skin, and if Peter scented just right he could smell snow in that gentle breeze.

 

Stiles.

 

“Wake up my Alpha.” His body reacted on its own accord, jolting his aching body. He took in a deep breath, his eyes snapping open.

 

And there was his Stiles, leaning over him. His eyes two large twin pools of Arctic white. Peter blinked, taking in his blood covered skin and the bags under his eyes. The wolfs hand twitched, wanting to whip off the evidence of violence off his skin.

 

Talia was a blubbering mess beside him. Speaking fast, words Peter wasn't even bothering to track. Not when his mate was giving him such a pretty smile.

 

“Hello Alpha.” Stiles whispered.

 

That throw Peter, he sat up slowly a hand going to his chest shocked to find no trace of a wound. Just a torn shirt sticky blood.

 

Stiles leaned back as Peter moved forward. Those white eyes slowly flaring with a warm whiskey glow. It stared at the edges, slowly working its way through the foxes eyes.

 

Stiles swayed, his eyes abruptly rolling into the back of his head before he started on a slow decent towards the floor. Peters arms shot out, grabbing the boy and pulling him to his chest.

 

Jackson gave a low howl as he watched Stiles crumble.

 

“Jesus, this kids hearts going to jump out of his chest.” Peter bitched, suddenly worried about the increasing heart rate. He pulled the boy into his lap, resting his hand over a blood stained chest.

 

Peter knew it wasn't his blood, but he hated seeing him covered in it.

 

“What the hell happened?” Peter barked out, making several people jump at the sudden shout.

 

Talia shook her head. “I don't even know Peter. God I don't even know, you were dead and Stiles was... he killed Jennifer. Didn't even bat an eye as he took her out, then he just kinda stopped. Drew in on himself, he... You're an Alpha Peter, he brought you back from the dead and now your an Alpha.”

 

“Come again?” He knew it wasn't the time to be his normal sarcastic self, but he was having a hard time processing anything. His mind was fuzzy, his bones sang with a surge of something he couldn't quite place.

 

“I.. I don't know how, I don't.” Talia was breathless, face pale and eyes wide.

 

He had only ever seen his sister look like that on two occasions. After the death of their parents, and when she finally saw the extent of the damage done to his body after the fire.

 

She too was coated in a layer of blood. Her freckled arms and hands wrecked with the stuff. Smothering the pretty color of her skin.

 

“I'm no Alpha Talia, If I was wouldn't I have the urge to over throw you?”

 

She shook her head. “Your eyes are red Peter. Right now your eyes are pools of crimson.”

 

He grunted. Peter couldn't really give a shit at the moment if he was suddenly an Alpha. Not when his mate was so still in his arms. Breath heaving from his chest, skin soaked in sweat, tears and blood.

 

His eyes tracked over his body, looking for injury. He saw his mangled leg.

 

“What the hell happened to his brace?” His eyes scanned the room, spying the metal contraption toss away in a corner.

 

“He ripped it off.” Isaac mumbled. The kid was looking a bit on the green side. His long arms shaking with trimmers. “You passed out and wouldn't wake up. He just ripped the thing off with his bare hands.”

 

His voice was awed.

 

“How...” Scott shifted on his feet. A finger twitched in Stiles direction. “Peter's an alpha now, does that mean him and Stiles will have to leave the pack?”

 

Deaton stood, the mans body popping and cracking like old furniture. “No, Peter isn't your typical Alpha. We told you when we first realized what Stiles was that he would give power to his mate. That's what Stiles did, yes Peter is now an alpha but to a different extent. The the alpha mate of an omega.

 

“Stiles fox is the embodiment of life. He gives it freely, heals those with his kindness. Twice today he has given someone life. First with Jackson, the boy died as a kanima Stiles brought him back as a wolf. He repaired all damage and fixed the mutated DNA. It was just a coincidence Jackson's wolf form happened to be his familiar. Then with Peter, Stiles fell into an omega rage killing the threat to his pack then by bringing Peter back. The wounds were to bad, the only option his fox saw fit was the Alpha power. It's more then likely he'll be just as powerful or even more so then his sister but without the need to take over the pack or form his own.”

 

Stunned silence.

 

“Talia is still my Alpha, my wolf see's her that way. There isn't even a trace of rebellion in him.”

 

Talia smiled.

 

“So Peter won't over throw the kingdom?” Erica asked, a attempt to help with the tension in the room.

 

“To bothersome.” Peter answered.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles has been unconscious for six hours now. He hadn't woken when Peter had bathed him, or when he had checked over his wounds. They weren't too bad, more healed then everyone had originally thought so now he was only strapped down with a normal brace.

 

Now he just laid there, warm and safe on the couch. Jackson was curled up at his feet watching him. Eyes bright green and holding steady. Deaton said they would shift back once Jackson's wolf felt Stiles was safe.

 

It begged to question though, if a werewolf familiar didn't feel like his master was safe then Peter was going to follow his lead as well.

 

Oh, he still wasn't to sure about the new kid, but he had been protective of Stiles so Peter could be nice. Until he saw a reason to be anything else.

 

Peter leaned back in his seat, watching everything. The windows the doors, Jennifer said someone was coming for them he was inclined to believe her.

 

Jackson's head shot up, Peter's eyes homed in on Stiles. Listening, watching. The wolfs ear twitched. The pup gave an unhappy huff before dropping his head back down.

 

The foot falls of his sister and James rushing around up stairs were loud in the quite living room. Peter could hear the other teens in the kitchen, talking in hushed voice.

 

Peter sighed, pack life was about to be more complicated here soon. With the threat of attack hanging over them security was about to be tight. Talia had ordered Laura and Derek home from collage, both agreeing to take a year off to be home.

 

Talia was sending Jamie to James brother out of state on the pig farm. It was a good thing the kid still loved going up there, because once he was old enough to put to work he wouldn't want to go anymore.

 

Peter knew it hurt his sister to send her youngest away, but without them know what was coming it was safest for him if he wasn't around. Peter wouldn't argue with that logic, but it would be quite in the house not hearing his happy giggles.

 

His safety came first.

 

Thomas would be here any minute now to pick the boy up.

 

Speaking of the little guy, Jamie rounded the corner his normal smile not present as he glanced over at Stiles.

 

“Uncle Peter?” Jamie stopped my Peter's chair eyes wide and the pretty's shade of moss green.

 

“Yea little man?” Jamie smiled a little.

 

“Is Stiles okay?”

 

“Yes, he's okay. Just really tired, he had a busy day.” Bringing two people back to life and going into a omega rage and killing Jennifer. He doesn't use his magic most day, and today he had done it so much he exhausted himself.

 

At least that's what Deaton and Peter was hoping what was going on. They had no real answer, with so little knowledge on lunar foxes they had to guess on a lot. Which did not sit well with Peter, but there wasn't much he could do.

 

There was no telling how Stiles was going to react when he woke. He had killed someone, granted she was an evil little bitch but this was Stiles, sweet innocent Stiles. All Peter could do was hope he didn't take it to heart. Wouldn't let this weight him down.

 

Talia had said he had been a cold statue as he killed Jennifer, Peter found it hard to imagine but he would take his sisters word for it.

 

The sound of tiers on gravel made Jackson growl. The wolf stood quickly placing himself over Stiles, his ears flat tail low, those large teeth sharp.

 

Peter stood, patting the boy on the head once as he moved towards the door. The wolf fell quiet but hadn't moved from his spot. Peter said nothing, if the boy wanted to stay there to protect his mate he would let him.

 

Peter opened the door after checking out the window, Thomas had his had up ready to knock when the door swung open.

 

“Shouldn't have even bother to try to knock.” Thomas bitched shaking his head.

 

Peter smiled. Thomas was no wolf, James had been changed not long after him and Talia had met. His younger brother though was a very interesting man. A odd magic he used that made even Peter question things, but it was great for protection.

 

“You really shouldn't.” Peter sassed back.

 

Thomas walked in, his green eyes scanning the room before falling on the odd pair on the couch.

 

“How's your mate doing?” Jackson growled. Thomas flicked his finger and the wolf pup yipped.

 

“Don't pick on the wolf Tommy. And he's okay.” Peter still wasn't sure and he fucking hated that.

 

The pair moved into the living room. “You don't seem to sure of that Peter.”

 

With an annoyed huff Peter fell back into his chair next to Stiles resting form.

 

“That's because I'm not sure, Deaton's not sure. No one knows anything, how could we. There is nothing on Lunar foxes but a few odds and ends.”

 

How do you find out what happens to a fox after they over load on power and that was after going into an omega rage and bringing two people back from the dead.

 

“Would you like me to look him over?” Peter glanced towards the man.

 

“Go right ahead, if you can tell me something that would be fucking fantastic.”

 

Thomas made his way towards Stiles, Jackson moved back a step but kept a sharp eye on the man. Not trusting of a man he wasn't familiar with, Peter gave him a few points for that one.

 

A tan hand met the pale skin of Stiles forehead. The fox twitched, Jackson gave a warning growl as Peter sat forward. That was the first movement out of the kid for the last few hours.

 

Thomas grunted pulling his hand back quickly. “Hot damn, kids got some crazy strong magic.”

 

The guy rubbed at his chest before sitting on the coffee table. “First things first, kids going to be out for twelve more hours at least. Give or take. His magic is magnificent but he used way to much at once. Second, come do that pain drain thing on him. Kids hurting bad right now.”

 

Peter was rushing forward pulling pain as soon as his hand landing on Stiles neck. Peter cursed, his veins turning molten black as he took the agonizing pain coursing through his little mates body. He hadn't even thought to check to see if he was in pain. Other then the knee of his he didn't have any other injuries.

 

“I can see your brain working, there was no way for you to know. It's his magic bringing the pain not a wound.”

 

Peter growled. “His magic is bullshit if you ask me, it seems to hurt him more then help him.”

 

“His magic is beautiful. I just looked straight into that burning inferno and I will tell you that kid there could bring this world to ruin with that magic coursing through him.”

 

“Yea, well more then not it just hurts him. It's already tried to kill him once, now its practically skinning him alive if the pain is anything to go by.” Peter's veins finally faded. Stiles pain was gone for the moment.

 

“All magic has backlash, even mine. Hurts like hell too when I over do it, not like his of course, get him trained a little and it should help some.”

 

“You offering?” Peter snapped. Oh he loved his little fox, but his magic. If it does something like this to him when he over uses it, Peter was no fan of it.

 

“Yes, as soon as the threat is taken care of I will train him.”

 

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter watched as Talia sat at the kitchen table coffee cup in had and a large leather bound book in front of her. He could feel her unease from here, her worry about the threat hanging over them. Her sadness that she had to send her son away to keep him safe. If there was one thing his sister hated, it was being away from her children.

 

It had been hard enough on her to watch Laura and Derek leave for collage. Peter couldn't really understand it of course, not having children of his own. But if he really thought about it, he wouldn't want to be to far from his own kids either.

 

The world was a scary place, anything could happen. More so when you were a werewolf hiding in from the world.

 

Peter found his eyes on his little mate, true to Thomas's word Stiles was still sleeping. Now the only difference was he would wiggle or twitch every so often. Whatever magic induced coma he had been in was finally wearing off. Peter need to get him to their room before he woke.

 

Because he knew, deep within his very being that tonight was going to be a bad one.

 

He could already feel the panic attack brewing and Stiles wasn't even awake yet.

 

Jackson was seated next to him, having finally shifted back, the kid looked exhausted. His legs bouncing from under the table, his eyes roaming the room before finally landing on Stiles still form again. He hadn't really spoke, and Peter wasn't interested in listening to him talk either.

 

Scott wandered into the room then, his eyes taking in the new trail pack mate.

 

“Your rooms ready Jackson.” The kid nodded his head in understanding. When Talia had asked him if he wanted to return home, he had refused before she had even finished speaking. Talia had gave him a pointed look then the kid had babbled about not liking the idea of being to far from Stiles. Just the thought had made his wolf restless.

 

A new werewolf being restless was a recipe for disaster.

 

Talia hadn't tried fighting him on the matter, she had ordered Scott and Isaac to make up one of the spare rooms for him. The one at the end of the stairs that headed up towards Peter and Stiles wing of the house.

 

“You boys can go to sleep.” Talia looked towards Jackson. “Derek and Laura will be here soon but it's late so I'll introduce you to them tomorrow.”

 

Jackson shifted nervously. “Yes ma'am.” With one last look towards Stiles Jackson followed Scott out of the kitchen.

 

Talia spoke. “How are you feeling little brother?”

 

Peter smirked. “Not dead.” He felt amazing to be honest. Like he was jacked with energy, his blood sang in his veins. He felt powerful.

 

“Don't even joke about that.” Talia hissed. “You didn't have to see it, you didn't have to witness someone you love die. You didn't have to see Stiles practically drown in the weight of that. His eyes Peter were empty of everything.”

 

Peter sighed. “I'm sorry, I feel great, but other then a surge of power I don't feel any different.”

 

Talia nodded. “That's good, I knew Stiles magic wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but I was still worried.”

 

“There's no adverse effects as far as I'm aware of.” And even if there would have been he wouldn't mind because he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the face and throw a fit. He was alive, he could still protect his mate and his pack. He couldn't ask for anything else.

 

“I owe you an apology.” Talia suddenly say, changing the subject.

 

“You don't owe me anything Talia.” Peter was surprised she thought so.

 

“I do, you told me something was wrong with that girl and I didn't listen. You died because of it, If Stiles hadn't been able to bring you back. That would have been my fault.”

 

“I don't trust anyone Talia, outside of this pack everyone to me is a threat. So no you don't owe me an apology and I won't even say I told you so because that would be just cruel.” And if Peter was anything he wasn't cruel.

 

He laughed at himself. Of course he was cruel he wouldn't change that though.

 

“I don't understand you Peter, I've never understood you.”

 

“And you never will because, the only person I need to understand me is in that room sleeping. I just need you to be here and do what you always do.”

 

 

to be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one really thought I would kill Peter.   
> I could never because Peter and Stiles are my OTP  
> Then again, this story has a lot more to go, anything could happen.


	7. temptations heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically sex and the overly misuse of the work cock.   
> You have been warned.

 

 

 

Peter was leaning against the headboard reading a book, as to keep an eye on Stiles when it happened. No warning, no flutter of a heartbeat before it kick started. Just a wild jerk as Stiles sat up in bed screaming. His arms swung out as if to flee or attack, Peter couldn't decide which.

 

He grabbed the boys arms locking them in front of his chest, pulling Stiles onto his lap. He wailed louder, his hips jerking to the right to get free.

 

“Shhh, I got you baby, I got you.” It took a moment, but he finally stopped screaming. His chest heaved in sharp gasps.

 

“She killed you.” He whispered. “She took you away.”

 

Peter kissed his head, turning Stiles so he was cradling Peters hips. The boys head fell to his shoulder, his nose finding the warm skin of Peter's neck. Breathing deeply he sighed, a whine quickly following.

 

“I'm right here sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere.” Not if it was the last thing Peter did. He would not leave Stiles.

 

“I killed her.”

 

Peter bumped his nose along the boys temple. “How do you feel about that?”

 

Stiles grunted. “I'd do it again, I don't know if I should feel bad, all I know is I don't feel bad. I'm glad she's dead.”

 

That was better then Peter could hope for. He didn't want his little fox feeling guilty for killing the girl. Hell if the wolf could have had it his way he would have done it himself. He would have gutted her so fast, but at the time all she had done was mouth off so she didn't attack until it was to late.

 

Then Peter hadn't been in any way able to attack back. Understandable when he had a hole the size of a soft ball all the way through his body. He still wish though, that it had been Talia or James to kill her. Anyone but Stiles, the boy really didn't need the burden of that on his conscience. If he could take it from him he would, in a heart beat.

 

“She was an awful person, helping herself into our lives with the plan on killing Talia. I wish you wouldn't of had to kill her love, but you save Talia and I could never be more thankful for that.”

 

Peter never said it out loud. Not since he was a kid, but his big sister was one of the biggest part of his life. Without her, well Peter didn't even want to imagine such a thing. He's always had her at his side, more so after their parents death. There wouldn't really be a him without her.

 

Even if she was one of the biggest pains in his ass. He still loved her.

 

“I'm glad I could help.” Stiles mumbles against Peter's neck. “I'm glad I was able to bring you back to me Alpha.”

 

Peter kissed his cheek. “I'm glad I'm here with you too love. Now try to get more sleep. I know you have been under for over twenty hours, but you were in pain for a lot of that and I can smell your exhaustion.”

 

“I wanna stay right here.” Stiles says, his fingers curling into Peter's shirt.

 

“You can love.” Peter slide down the headboard. Laying on his back to allow Stiles to curl himself on top of Peter's chest. The boy could stay there the rest of his life if he so felt the need to. Peter wouldn't have it no other way.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

He was in hell again. There really was no other way he could see school. Between the loud students, the freaking bells and people shoving past him in a rush to get to class.

 

Stiles didn't have his wall of werewolves in front of him today, but he did have Jackson at his left and Scott on his right. It didn't keep jerks from sliding between them. Not until Scott got fed up and blocked the next person who tired.

 

He shoved one guy ways, he stumbled into another. An odd domino effect as the next guy stumbled. No one said a thing when Jackson sneered their way. It seemed with that one look, the hallway parted like the red sea for them.

 

It must be handy to have a reputation. Even if it was one for wailing on someone till they were bloody.

 

Stiles was content walking until Lydia came stomping forward. Her red hair perfectly curled and her pretty flora dress swaying around her thighs.

 

“What do you think you're doing Jackson?” She hissed stopping right in front of them, blocking their path. Jackson stiffened. It pissed Stiles off, he has had a shit week after the crap with Jennifer. The last thing he wanted to fucking do was deal with Lydia.

 

“I'm going to class, what the hell else would I be doing?” His voice was full of forced bravo. Stiles gave him points on trying though. The girl has spent the last three years ordering him around, doing god knows what. He deserved to be able to speak to her as he wished.

 

“You know you are suppose to come to me as soon as you get to school.” Really now, it seems she wasn't aware she was not his master anymore.

 

“I don't have to do shit, no move before we are late.”

 

Scott was glaring down at the girl, lips pulled back in a disgusted scowl. If Lydia noticed she didn't show any outwards sign of it. Stiles was positive if Scott could get away with snarling without drawing the eyes of others he would.

 

“I'm your master Jackson, don't make me order you.” Lydia spat, those light hazel eyes narrowing in rage.

 

“You're not Jackson's anything Lydia, now move.” Stiles snaps annoyed with the girl. Did she have no concept on how to treat others?

 

Those eyes cut to Stiles. “Who gave you permission to speak to me? It's all your fault I'm being sent away, you're not taking Jackson too.”

 

Stiles smiled. “He's already mine, my wolf familiar which means you have no hold on him. So move your ass now.”

 

A rumble vibrated in Stiles chest, shocking not only himself but the three others as well. Lydia cringed back, eyes wide.

 

She took a step to the side. “You know Lydia, if you weren't such a horrible human being you would have actual friends instead of people who follow you out of fear of your family name. From what I hear your grandmother is a great women. What happened to you?”

 

With that Stiles ushered Scott and Jackson away, he ignored the pointed stares of the students around him. He turned a deaf ear towards the whispers, which was amusing to him seeing as he actually was deaf in one ear.

 

“You know Stiles, it's nice to see you stick up for yourself and others.” Scott says voice filled with amusement. “That's one thing you got out of all of this at least.

 

He guessed he did.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

It was on his eighteenth birthday that he started feeling like something was crawling under his skin. A heat in his belly he just couldn't seem to get rid of, a cool shower hadn't helped. Not even after the four he took.

 

The house was empty besides him for once so there was no one to complain when he kept going back for another shower.

 

He felt awful, skin to hot, his clothes irritated his skin and it couldn't have come at a worse time. Everyone was going out to dinner for his birthday, and all he wanted to do was get this heat to go way. The burning of his skin, the sweat that was coating his flesh.

 

He didn't know what was happening, and he wasn't freaking out to much about it until he felt it.

 

He whined, slick. He was making slick and he had a panic attack as soon as he realized what was happening to him. He had gone into his freaking heat. He was on his hands and knees in the center of his and Peter's bed naked besides his boxers.

 

His legs shook with a need he didn't know how to fix, all his research of omega heats and he was freaking clueless when it happened.

 

What made matters worse? He was impossible hard, his fucking dick standing to attention against his lower stomach. What the hell was he suppose to do about that?

 

Unsure he slid a hand into his boxers palming himself. The first touch of his hand against the sensitive skin there made him cry out. It didn't feel like the other few times he had touched himself in the safety of a shower when he had woken up with an embarrassing boner next to Peter.

 

The slick was running down his legs, coating his thighs and mixing with his sweat. It smelled sweet, and he was ashamed to admit he was making a puddle on the bed.

 

He stroked himself lightly, testing the waters. The feel of it was like a live wire in his mind, it felt so good that his hips rocked into the motion of his hand on their own. He wanted to come so bad, but no matter how fast he stroked, how hard he gripped he just couldn't come.

 

He was in tears forty minutes later. His hips raised high and his boxers pushed down to his knees. It hurt, and he had no idea what to do.

 

He needed Peter, but the idea of moving to call him made him hurt just thinking about it.

 

His cock was almost raw with how long he had tried to get himself off. The heat in his belly ten times worse. Stiles felt like he was melting, that hell fire was running through his veins.

 

He was going to die, Stiles was in heat, hard as a rock with his ass in the air and he was going to die. All on his eighteenth birthday.

 

His only thought? That was just his fucking luck.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Peter was in the front of the horde trying to get into the house. Everyone practically returning home all at once to get ready for dinner in the next hour. A perfectly wrapped box was curled under the wolfs arm as he slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

 

He hadn't even stepped into the house when the smell smacked him in the face. His mouth watered at the sugary scent, his eyes bleeding red.

 

Whipping around on his feet he snarled when Derek and Scott tried to push their way through the door. Talia shot forward pulling the boys back, her eyes flared red until she too smelled the reason for Peter's out burst.

 

“Jesus, okay. Everyone back out!” Talia snapped pushing everyone back and away.

 

The rumbled snarl was still vibrating in Peter's chest. His wolf was howling with need. To get to his mate, his omega who was in heat. His mouth watered more as he took a deep breath.

 

“Peter. We're going to go stay at the cabin for the next few days okay? You call as soon as it's over. If anything happens before then and you need us, you call.”

 

Peter nodded, unable to form words. The scent was so thick in the air he knew, just knew his little mate had been in heat for a better part of five hours everyone had been gone.

 

Talia slammed the door closed, locking it. Peter dumped the present on the table in the hall before flying up the stairs. He hadn't even thought about Stiles going into heat, not once. With everything going on it had never accord to him.

 

Which was a mistake, he was an omega of course he would go into fucking heat.

 

The scent of Stiles was even more over powering when he opened the door to their room. Oh he wanted to taste that sugary goodness, he wanted to so bad. But Stiles his little mate was on his hands and knees naked. His cheek resting against a pillow as he cried.

 

“It hurts Peter.” His little fox says. “It hurts so bad.”

 

Peter slammed the door shut, locking them in and the fantastic smell Stiles was giving off. As much as he wanted to take him right then he had to keep his wits about him. Stiles had been in heat for hours alone and if the smell was anything to go by he hadn't came once.

 

No wonder he was a ball of misery. Peter moved towards the bed, stripping of his shirt as he went. Stiles skin would be hypersensitive, the rub of clothing would do nothing but irritate him further.

 

Crawling onto the bed Peter laid an open palm against Stiles back checking his temperature. The boy arched towards the hand whimpering. His skin was hot enough to burn.

 

“I couldn't come.” Stiles cries. “I tried but I couldn't come.”

 

“Shhh sweetheart. I got you. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it.” Why the hell did the world think it needed to fuck with him and make their first time be while Stiles was in the grip of an omega heat.

 

“I don't know.” He cried hysterically his breath heaving. “Oh god, I don't know.”

 

Peter rubbed his spine. “Okay, that's okay.” The wolf rolled Stiles on to his back, the boy opened his legs, reflex for an omega in need. Peter bit down on his tongue to control himself. The sweet slick was pooling under his ass begging to be licked.

 

“I'm going to get you off once. Then we need to cool you off okay baby?” His fever was to high for Peter's liking.

 

“Okay.” Stiles hiccuped. His eyes were mismatched. One burning a bright honey color, the other a vibrant purple.

 

“You tell me if you want me to stop at any time.” At the boys nod, Peter moved. His hands sliding down the boys stomach, spreading is legs more so he would have better access. Stiles squirmed at Peter's touch, making a needy sound in the back of his throat.

 

“Please.” He begged.

 

That was all the invitation Peter needed. He dipped his head low, swallowing the boy down in one swift movement. Stiles cried out, his hips bucking up, fingers tangling in his hair at once.

 

Peter sucked, hollowing out his cheeks before pulling slowly back then dropped back down in the next moment.

 

“Oh god!” The fingers in his hair tightened more. Peter repeated the action, loving the moan that left Stiles throat. Stiles rolled his hips each time Peter work himself down Stiles cock. He tasted amazing.

 

“More.” Stiles breaths out. “Need more.”

 

Peter's fingers dipped low, sliding through that warm slick and down between Stiles ass. His movements were slow, as to not spook the boy when he touched the warm entrance. At the first touch of his hole Stiles whimpered, taking it as a sign he liked the attention to his ass Peter worked one finger inside.

 

The slick made it easy, he opened for him beautifully. He slid his finger back before sliding back home. Stiles shouted, rolling his hips down searching for release.

 

He worked him up to a second finger, his tongue still working the hard shaft in his mouth. With two inside and Stiles finally loosening some Peter went to work.

 

He pumped his fingers, slowly at first, hunting for the boys sweet spot. He knew the moment he hit it. Stiles back lifted off the bed as he screamed.

 

“Oh god!” The fingers in his hair tugged. “Again!” He begged. “Do that again.”

 

It was a frenzy of movements after that. Peter fingering him at a controlled pace, scissoring him opened. Stretching Stiles hole. The slick just kept coming, more sweet, helping his fingers slide in.

 

A third finger slid home, he pulled of the cock in his mouth. He wanted to watch Stiles as he orgasmed. One hand on the pale knee Peter held his legs open. Working his fingers faster, nailing his prostate with each thrust in.

 

Those pretty hips thrusting down, meeting each slam of Peters fingers.

 

“Don't stop!” Stiles screams rolling his hips faster. “Oh god, please.” His legs moved farther apart, Peter slammed a forth finger into his warmth. The sweet entrance of his ass opened beautifully for him.

 

Peter wiggled his fingers inside Stiles, stroking his prostate. “Fuck! Right there, please. Faster.”

 

Peter was hard as a rock in his jeans. His cock straining against the fabric. But he could wait, needed to wait. Give Stiles an orgasm first, then he could indulge himself.

 

He worked his hand faster. Slamming into Stiles, curling his fingers to catch and rub against the bud inside him.

 

Back arched off the bed, eyes glowing, Stiles screamed through his orgasm. Coming so hard his legs shook. His insides clamped down on Peter's fingers, fluttering. Only once Stiles relaxed did he remove his fingers.

 

Boneless on the bed Stiles panted, a low whine seemed to get trapped in his throat.

 

“Okay sweetheart, lets get you into a cool bath, while you do that I'll go get you a drink and a snack before the next round hits.”

 

Stiles blinked slowly at him before nodding. Those long pretty fingers slid through the come on his belly. Peter licked his lips, he wanted to taste him but not yet. He could wait.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Stiles was chewing lazily on an apple slice when the next wave it. He whined as warmth pooled between his legs onto the clean sheets Peter had placed on the bed during is bath. He didn't know if he was ready for the next round but the feel of Peter's fingers in him made him crave more.

 

A growl rumbled against Stiles back where he was leaned against Peter's chest. The skin was warm and smooth against the scars he had taken from Peter. A large hand was spread out against his belly rubbing soothing circles.

 

Another wave of heat had Stiles dropping his apple back on the plate. He moaned through it, shocked at the filthy sound he was making.

 

The plate was placed on the nightstand.

 

“You want my fingers again baby?” Stiles eyes fell to the bulge in Peter's pants. He had been hard the entire time, from the size of him Stiles new he would be feeling that for days. His mouth watered at the idea.

 

“No.” Stiles answered. He wanted to feel Peter. All of him, moving inside him. “I want you.”

 

Stiles didn't know where the boldness was coming from. Maybe because of the way Peter was looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on. The hungry look in his wolfs eyes as they traced over his body. Practically caressing him.

 

“Oh, you'll have me love.” The jeans and boxers were gone in the next moment. Stiles eyes fell to the deep sun kissed skin. The ridged dips and curves of his abs, his pronounced hip bones. Those amazingly strong legs.

 

And god, that mans cock. It wasn't the first time Stiles had seen it, but it was the first time he'd seen it hard and ready. Uncut, thick and long. Stiles mouth watered.

 

He was suddenly grateful he wasn't out of his mind with lust. He wanted to remember this day for the rest of his life.

 

Stiles licked his lips as Peter crawled towards him. Then his mouth was on Stiles, licking and tasting the apples he had eaten. Peter's clever tongue sliding and caressing the roof of his mouth and lips. The kiss alone made Stiles slick more. Peter tasted of Stiles and apples.

 

A warm hand slid down his chest, stroking down towards his hips. Fingers digging lightly into the skin. Stiles hummed happily.

 

He only pulled back from the kiss when the need to breathe became to much. Panting he fell to his back on the bed. Watching, waiting. Stiles had been to far gone the first time, he wanted to see Peter now.

 

Those large hands hooked behind Stiles knees, pulling his legs apart and pushing them forward so much Stiles swore they were at his ears.

 

Then Peter's mouth was at his opening, licking at him. Stiles screamed, oh god. The feeling of Peter's mouth on him, that clever tongue worked its way inside. Stiles was helpless, unable to roll his hips like he wanted to.

 

Peter's tongue thrust in, coxing his insides, pulling a moan that would put a whore to shame from Stiles lips. Peter was devouring him like a man dying of thirst. The orgasm ripped through him, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his skull.

 

The next moment his legs were thrown over Peter's shoulders, Peter slammed into him with one powerful thrust.

 

Stiles saw stars. “Oh god.” The burn was amazing, the thickness of Peter's cock felt like heaven. The wolf waited, letting Stiles adjust to his size. Peter's clever mouth kissed and bit at Stiles ankle.

 

Unwilling to wait anymore he rolled him hips down, Peter pulled back till nothing but the head was inside. Teasing him.

 

“Patience baby.” Peter slowly slid back in, Stiles fingers tangled in the sheets bellow him. Peter moved again, that slow steady pace. With each slow slid he hit Stiles prostate, making him whine with each thrust forward.

 

“Faster.” Stiles begged. He wanted to feel it, he wanted that cock slamming into him. The heat in his belly was burning him. Scorching his insides.

 

Still Peter moved slowly, rocking his hips back then the slow slide forward.

 

“Faster Alpha.”

 

That triggered something in Peter, his blue eyes flaring red. The wolf slammed forward, his hips moving at a pace Stiles couldn't keep up with. But it felt so fucking good.

 

“Ah!” Stiles legs slid into the curve of Peters arms, opening himself more for the cocking working in and out of him. Then he was suddenly in the air, his arms wrapping around Peter's neck as those strong arms snaked around his back.

 

He screamed as he was slammed down onto Peter's cock, the man effectively holding him up and taking him harder. Teeth bit at his neck, a tongue tasted his sweat soaked skin.

 

Then they were rolling Peter falling onto his back, Stiles seated on that thick shaft inside him. He glanced down, those beautiful red eyes stared back.

 

“Ride me baby.” Stiles didn't have to be told twice. Now he was glad for all the porn he had studied.

 

He rocked his hips back, amazed at how deep Peter was in him. The stretch and burn made him dizzy. Stiles leaned back hands falling down on either side of Peters knees. He rolled his hips, loving the feel of Peter inside of him.

 

“Oh fuck.” He worked his hips faster. The position wasn't right, he sat up hands now resting on Peter's chest. Fingers dug into his hips. Heat pulled in his belly, he lifted before quickly slamming back down.

 

Crying out he did it again. Impaling himself on the thickness, the impossible length. He needed more, wanted more. Harder, faster he worked himself. Peter's strong arms lifting and slamming him back down.

 

He needed more.

 

“So beautiful.” Peter purrs. “You were made just for me, come on baby. Take what you need.” Peter's hips slammed up as Stiles shifted down.

 

It wasn't enough, he needed more. “More.” He begged. It wasn't enough. He didn't know what he needed. Again they were rolling, Peter flipping Stiles onto his belly, knee's falling on each side of his hips. Peter straddled his ass, his cock slamming back inside.

 

He was helpless this way, no way to take control. He loved it. One of Peter's hands wrapped around his wrist, holding them above his head.

 

“Tell me if you want me to stop baby.” Peter whispered in his ear. The weight on his back wasn't heavy, Peter effectively holding himself up as to not crush Stiles. The cock inside him hadn't move. He needed him to move.

 

“Fuck me!” Stiles moans growing impatience. Peter did just that.

 

He slammed his hips forward, his free hand going to the back of Stiles neck holding him down in a light grip. The pace was brutal, each slam of Peter's cock tore a scream from his throat.

 

“Oh god yes.” He couldn't keep the words from coming. He didn't know where they were even coming from, but it seemed to egg Peter on so he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

 

“Harder, oh Please harder.” Peter moved him again lifting up on is knees, pulling Stiles up so his back was resting against Peter's sweat covered chest. His knees pushed slightly apart.

 

“Put your hand around my neck.” Peter demanded. Biting at Stiles neck. He reached back wrapping his fingers around the back of Peters neck.

 

Stiles wasn't sure what Peter had in mind, but when the hard wrapped around his throat he was shocked to learn it turned him the hell on. Peter didn't squeeze, just the light press of his finger tips against his skin. His free hand wrapped around Stiles waist.

 

He rutted forward, no warning. Just the sharp jerk of Peter's hips slamming into him, he cried out. His fingers tightening around the neck under his fingers.

 

“Don't let go.” Stiles didn't let go. His hold on Peter was the only thing keeping him up with the sharp hard thrust.

 

“You feel so good.” Peter praised. “Take me so well.”

 

Stiles had a kink it would seem. Oh did he want Peter to dominate him, wanted to hear filthy things leave his mates lips.

 

A brutal thrust had Stiles falling forward on his hand and knees. Peter didn't stop, and Stiles didn't want him too.

 

“Harder.” Oh god he wanted it harder, he was so close. So close.” Wanna come.”

 

Hands on his hips held him steady. Peter's thrust were wild, slamming into his prostate with each slam. “Oh, fuck.”

 

“That's it baby.” Peter growls. His hips piston forward. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the deep intake of air with each slap of Peter's thighs against his ass.

 

Faster Peter moved. Stiles legs shook, he slammed back to meet Peters thrust.

 

“So amazing baby, so good for me.” Stiles slammed back again, crying out.

 

Fingers spread him open, Peter's cock slid impossibly deeper. He was growing inside of Stiles, getting wider. Making him fuller. He loved it.

 

“Knot me Alpha.” Peter snarled. Teeth sunk into his neck, then he was coming. Screaming as Peter's knot slammed into him locking them in place. It was the best feeling he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Four days of nonstop sex left Stiles completely wiped. His legs shook when he tried to stand, his head was blissfully empty. He was heavily satisfied to the point it was almost unseemly. He lazed in the bed the day the others finally returned home.

 

To tired to move, but the door was open so Stiles got a good chuckle out of what he heard down stairs. Maz was curled up around his neck. Stiles wasn't to sure where she had hid the past four days, but now she seemed more then content to be back in the room.

 

Stiles heard the complaint over the cats purrs. “Jesus. Someone open the windows!” Cora shouts from down stairs.

 

Laura roared with laughter. “You're looking a little dead on your feet there Uncle Peter. Was Stiles to demanding for you?”

 

Stiles smiled into his pillow. He might have been a bit demanding. Okay a lot demanding, but he was exploring his sexual preferences. He loved it when Peter took him slow, gentle kisses and playful nips.

 

Peter had said at one point he wish they could have done it that way first. Stiles had disagreed pretty fast. Oh, don't get him wrong, Peter worshiped Stiles on the second day of his heat. Fingers exploring slowly bringing Stiles to orgasm five time in one round.

 

He would have never thought it was possible, but Peter had done it.

 

But Stiles liked it rough, he loved the feel of Peter's hand around his throat as he took him. He wasn't ashamed to admit, when Peter had slammed him against a wall and fucked him with a hand around his throat he had came so hard he blacked out.

 

Gentle Peter was everyone's wet dream.

 

But the Peter that set a brutal pace and fucked Stiles on every inch of furniture in their room was probably his favorite. Maybe it was because Peter was so gentle with him all the time, that when it came to the bed room he wanted to be dominated not pampered.

 

Stiles had orgasmed so much the last four days he was pretty sure he was dehydrated. He was the luckiest omega alive if you asked him. He had been thoroughly fucked, then bathed and fed by hand several times over the last few day.

 

Now the burning need in his belly was finally gone and he was to tired to move.

 

“Oh god, please don't tell me you had sex out here.” Scott whines making Stiles laugh.

 

They hadn't, but Stiles was going to bet Peter was smirking like they had just to mess with everyone.

 

Stiles felt amazing, four days of just him and Peter had whipped away so many worries that he felt physically lighter. Oh he knew since his heat was over they would go back to watching for any signs of trouble and it was likely he was going to stress. But right this moment he was in to much of a blissed out haze to care.

 

His bed was warm and smelled of Peter. His cat purring happily against his neck and the beautifully carved snow white fox and large wolf curled around each other sat on his nightstand. His birthday gift from Peter.

 

One word was carved along the base.

 

Always.

 

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say that was embarrassing to write, but that would be a lie. I will do gentle maybe at some point, but when I think of Peter and Stiles I think wild. Hope you enjoy.


	8. Foxglove

 

It was two months before anything happened. It was nothing huge, but it throw up warning bells when a family of hunters suddenly moved into town. Stiles was panicked, everyone was calm and collected while Stiles was slowly having a mental breakdown.

 

Everyone was waiting on the front porch, the hunters wanted to make a formal introduction to Alpha Talia Hale and her pack. She had agreed of course, not wanting to start a war between the two families.

 

“There is no reason for them to hunt us.” Talia had said. “We have done nothing wrong, The Argent's only hunt those who have killed innocent people.”

 

The Hales had never done such a thing. As far as Stiles was aware they had only ever killed werewolves that went on a rampage after losing control.

 

 

The Argent's were already aware of the hunters Peter killed. Victoria Argent had been more then willing to apologize on the behalf of the group of men that had taken out Peter and Talia's parents and grandparents.

 

Something about it being frowned upon killing packs that had done nothing wrong. Peter had sneered hearing the words, but he kept his mouth shut when Talia had given him a pointed look. Do not for any reason cause any rifts she had warned.

 

Once the phone call had ended she had sat everyone down. Laying out guide lines, do not mention what Stiles really was. Do not let them know Peter was an alpha as well. A pack with two Alpha's would put up red flags for any group of hunters no matter how understanding they were.

 

Last do not for any reason let the hunters know about Jamie. He was safe away from here, easily protected by Thomas if the need was to happened to come along.

 

Stiles suddenly wished he was with Jamie. Something was buzzing in the back of his mind. A memory he had locked away. A hum of something terrible he didn't want to remember. He shifted on his feet, his fingers that were laced with Peter's tightened.

 

It was pathetic he knew, but he didn't want to be here. Standing on this porch getting ready to meet a family of hunters.

 

A three car convoy pulled into the drive. Deaton leading the way, as the pack emissary the hunters had to go through him before contacting Talia. Stiles may not be to trusting of the man, but he hadn't really done anything to earn Stiles mistrust. Well if you skipped over the part were he stabbed Stiles twice with needles on their first meeting.

 

And the man had been played alongside the Hales where Jennifer was concerned.

 

The two large black SUV behind the doctors small car was more intimidating then Stiles would like to admit. He could almost picture it, the back hatch being open to reveal dozens upon dozens of weapons that could take them out.

 

His heart jumped in his chest. Peter squeezed his hand.

 

No one would call ahead to murder a whole family would they?

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

His little mate was going to fall head long into a panic attack soon if they didn't hurry up and get this over with. Oh, Peter knew it was needed. Place nice with the enemy keep them close. Watch their every move.

 

He intended to do just that, but this staged meeting was putting to much stress of his little fox. Peter could hear it, everyone could. The pounding of his heart, the souring scent of honey as his anxiety climbed. Jackson took a step closer to the pair, his shoulder brushing against Stiles.

 

The fox whined in the back of his throat. Talia gave him a worried look before turning back towards the cars that had finally pulled to a stop. Deaton left his car first moving towards Talia, he appeared to be calm and collected. Which wasn't all that unusual for him, but there was a sourness to his scent that normally wasn't present with the man.

 

Peter raised an eyebrow in question.

 

“Good evening Talia.”

 

“Alan, what have you learned of our guest?” Right down to business. Talia was always good about that.

 

“Victoria and Chris Argent both age thirty five, one daughter Allison age eighteen. All kills between the three of them have been justified and documented. Victoria is the head of the family, you will undoubtedly be dealing with her more so then the others. Chris of course second in command. Allison has only been hunting since the age of sixteen, but has been training since she was six and able to hold a blade properly.”

 

Six year old welding knives, how lovely. Peter held in his sneer, A child should get to be a child. Not spend their childhood learning how to kill.

 

“Gerard Argent age fifty five, comes from a long line of hunters. Brought up on the old ways but conformed once his father passed and Chris was old enough to hunt. His kills have also been documented.”

 

“But?” Talia promotes picking up the souring scent.

 

“Some of the files I went over where questionable, they were put under investigation but then dropped when nothing strange was found.”

 

Peter did roll his eyes at this. Oh the group of hunters that lead most investigation's on hunting were good people. But some could be easily swayed with twisted logic.

 

The old code still made Peter angry most days. You hunt us, we hunt you. Most followed that code of honor but there was always a few, like the men who took out part of his family who didn't follow those rules.

 

Stiles was growing more tense beside him. Jackson bumped his shoulder again, his scent worried as he looked down at his master. Derek too was shooting concerned looks the boys way, his expressive eyebrows doing some complicated movement.

 

“Last Kate Argent, youngest child of Gerard age twenty five. Her file's are all well written and flawless. To flawless if you want my personal opinion, but that is more of a judgment call then actual facts. They seemed nice enough but as the only saying goes. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

 

“Oh don't worry, we'll be watching them very closely. This town is mine and no hunter family is going to come into my town and try to act like fools.”

 

“Understood, are you ready for them now?” Deaton asks glancing back towards the SUV's.

 

“Yes, lets get this over with.”

 

“Very well, I have instructed all weapons, mountain ash and wolfsbane be left in their vehicles. Victoria agreed quite quickly to the terms.”

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Peter tried to stop from shifting on his feet, he was that annoyed. There they were, five hunters, standing at attention lined nicely beside one another. Like it was perfectly normal to be standing at military form while greeting someone.

 

The Hale pack were clustered around the porch, oh it looked like chaos but they had been quite thorough in their positioning. Talia at the front, as was normal. She was the alpha after all. James standing to her right, arms folding lazily against his chest.

 

Peter stood to the left of her and back a few paces, in the eyes of those hunters he was only a beta. He could not stand beside his Alpha when he wasn't her second. Stiles was attached to his side, Jackson close to him. Peter and the wolf familiar were the leading protection for him if anything was to go south.

 

Boyd and Derek stood lazily back, looking unconcerned about the hunters, a perfect façade. Two younger pack mates unhappy about being at a meeting when they could be enjoying themselves. They stood of to the side a bit, easily in view but in the perfect position to attack if needed.

 

Yes, they had thought this out quite well. Victoria scanned everyone with calculating eyes. Taking in the cluster of girls closet to the front door. They too looked bored, well Erica looked a bit annoyed but she was a teenager. There was no reason for anyone to give it a second thought.

 

Scott and Isaac were leaning against the railing of the wraparound porch. Watching, Isaac looking adorably worried at the small group in front of them. No one even gave him a second look, those blonde curls and large blue eyes looked far to innocent.

 

“Good evening Alpha Hale.” Victoria finally speaks, taking a slow step forward. “As your Druid has probably already informed you, I'm Victoria Argent, head of the house.”

 

The formal speech was really grating on the nerves. Not to mention the woman's tan pants suit left something to be desired. The color really did wash out her skin tone, but Peter couldn't possibly tell her that now could he?

 

Not without Talia ripping off his head.

 

“Yes Mrs. Argent, We have been informed of everyone's status. I don't know how much you know about my pack but please feel free to ask. I will answer what I deem appropriate.”

 

“We know what was available in your family records, I only have a few question's.” Those gunmetal eyes landing on Stiles. Peter tensed, his fox took a small step backwards, his body shaking. A small breeze whips through the yard, twisting both Allison and Kate Argent's hair into there faces.

 

“It seems a while back you added one Stiles Stilinski to your family registry. Omega werefox. I was curios how you came about him. As far as I was aware there were no werefoxes in Beacon Hills.”

 

Werefox, not lunar fox. Oh, no they couldn't hide the fact that Stiles was a fox, but they could keep from disclosing what type. Seeing as his dear boy was nothing more then a myth. The title of omega made him the farthest thing from a threat, that most hunters shouldn't even give him a second glance.

 

So why then was it, Kate was holding her eyes directly on his mate.

 

“He was found almost two years ago on the outskirts of my territory by Peter. He was badly injured and had been living in the woods since the age of nine after his mother and father were murdered.”

 

Victoria tenses. “And he wasn't feral?”

 

Deaton spoke then saving Talia from having to do so. “No, I can't really explain why he didn't go feral but the only conclusive theory I could come up with was him being an omega. They are kind souls, their purpose in life his to help others. A feral omega would put so much stress on his mind that he would have probably died.”

 

Chris hummed thoughtfully. “It is possible, I've met a few omegas in my time. Never a fox of course but they were always very shy and timid. Or as you say kind.”

 

“I too will have to agree with that logic. I've never once heard of an omega going feral.” His wife adds.

 

“What's wrong with him.” Kate suddenly blurts out. Victoria whipped around glaring. Peter's eyes fell to his mate, he was stark white. Eyes wide body shaking with fear.

 

Peter settled a hand on his lower back. “Stiles gets panic attack from time to time. Meeting new people stresses him out.” Talia quickly says.

 

“Smell, smell.” Stiles mutters eyes glassy. Peter shifts to the side trying to get a better look at his little mate.

 

“Stiles?” Talia asks moving towards the fox, voice worried.

 

“Y-you don't s-smell that? I-it burns.” Kate shifts on her feet, Stiles flinches back.

 

“Stiles? What burns?”

 

Stiles sways on his feet, he blinks, his amber eyes flaring purple. The color was odd, not as vibrant, more milky in color. Peter settles his hand on the boys cheeks, he hisses.

 

“He's burning up.”

 

“S-s-smell t-t-that?” The stuttered words were barely out of his mouth before he was dropping, the convulsions hit as soon as Peter caught him. A whine leaves Stiles throat as he seizes. His body shaking uncontrollably in Peter's arms, eyes rolled into the back of his head.

 

Jackson gives a choked howl shifting, the Argent's drop back a few steps at the sudden appearance of a wolf.

 

“Deaton!” Peter shouts out, he didn't have time worrying about fucking hunters. Not when Stiles was... what the hell was even going on here? Peter couldn't smell anything beside the people around him, the earth, trees and wild flowers.

 

The doctor ignored Peter turning quickly towards the Argent's. “What do you have on you?”

 

“Nothing, you instructed up to leave everything in the cars. We did.”

 

Scott snarled. Stiles continued to seize. “You must have something, Stiles has been outside this house countless times. The only difference today is you.” Deaton says voice hard.

 

“Did you touch anything? Buy anything new? Touch a plant?”

 

“Kate.” Allison suddenly says. “Aunt Kate picked some flowers when we got a flat on the side of the road. They are in her jacket pocket.”

 

“Give them to me now.” Deaton snaps.

 

“Damn it Alan, get over here and help him!” Peter screams. The whine was turning into some god awful choking. As if his throat was swelling shut.

 

Jackson paced beside them, tail tucked low ears flat. The smell of the kids worry was suffocating.

 

With a confused look Kate reaches into her pocket pulling out a small bundle of pink and yellow flowers. They looked harmless, but Deaton was suddenly cursing up a storm.

 

“Scott go get my bag from my car now!” With a frantic nod the boy sailed over the railing running towards the car.

 

“What is it?” Allison asked, her eyes kept falling towards Stiles. Those large brown eyes worried, her scent was as well. Peter would give her pointers for that when his fucking mate wasn't trying to rattle out of his bones.

 

“Foxglove. Like wolfsbane for a werewolf but a fox has a much more violent reaction to foxglove. The don't even have to be in close contact with it, smell it, inhale it and its poison even from a distance.”

 

Scott ran up dumping the bag into Alan's hands. “Take these flowers, burn them, then get rid of the ashes then shower twice. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes sir.” Scott snatches the flowers from the doctor, running towards the back of the house to do what he was told.

 

“Talia I need alcohol, something strong. Vodka or a dark whiskey if you have it.” James ran into the house. Mumbling about having a strong Russian vodka.

 

“Why the alcohol?” Allison asks.

 

“To disinfect my hands. Soap would do if I wanted to waist my time washing my hands multiple times, but I need to touch him I don't want to make the mistake of missing any of the flower on my hands.”

 

Stiles suddenly heaves, chokes. Peter quickly rolls him to his side.

 

“Deaton, he has a rash around his neck.”

 

“He inhaled it, foxglove is very potent. It's scent is strong, the pollen and oil from the petals stick and cling to everything. As soon as Kate stepped out of that car she was a walking weapon.”

 

“I thought it was just a flower.” The girl says, Peter almost positive the girls heart skips a beat but no one else reacts to the sound. Maybe it was just his imagination.

 

“Luckily I have this on hand. Ever since you found Stiles I started collecting what I could. Granted I never thought I would have to use it. Foxglove doesn't grow out here, to many trees blocking the sun.”

 

“It was a few towns back.” Gerard says, he's watching everything in front of him. And odd calm that bothers Peter. “They were growing alongside the road, Kate collects wild flowers. Presses them into a book.”

 

James dumps the bottle of vodka into Deaton's hands. “Pour it on my arms and hands.” He instructs holding his arms out. The smell of the alcohol burns Peter's sensitive nose. Stiles vomits again, but it looks as if his seizure is slowly tapering off.

 

Once his hands are dry Deaton began pulling things from his bag. A fine white powered, some type of crushed herb and some disgusting smelling liquid that made Peter want to vomit himself.

 

He pulls out a crushing bowl bumping the powder and herbs into the dish before grinding it into a fine powder. He uncaps the liquid, the smell is so much worse Peter has to hold his breath.

 

“Oh god, what is that?” Erica asks covering her mouth and nose.

 

“You really don't want to know. I will warn you that it is fast acting but he will be very ill for several hours after.”

 

Fucking fantastic. Peter thinks sneering down at the mixture. With the dark brown water mixed in Deaton instructs Peter to tip Stiles head back. He does as he's told, then rubs the boys throat to cox him into swallowing the antidote down.

 

Nothing happens for the longest time. Everyone standing perfecting still, then Stiles jerks his eyes flying open. Twisting to the side he vomits once more, someone gives a shocked yell.

 

“Oh my god! Why is it that color? Is that bad?”

 

“No, that color is very good. He's purging the poison, once it was in his system it began clotting if you will. Thickening up so it could coat his organs and kill him faster.”

 

The vomit was black. Thick black slime that bubbled when it hit the floor.

 

“Alpha Hale, maybe it's best we have this conversation another time. I'm sure Kate needs to get very far away for the boy, her father as well seeing as they drove in the same car. Maybe we can continue this conversation in a few day?”

 

“Yes, thank you that will be fine. You have my contact information please call me when you are free.”

 

There was no fair wells, just a quite _I hope Stiles feels better_ from Allison before the group got into there vehicles and left.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles didn't have anymore seizures to Peter's great relief but he was still burning up. Tossing and turning in bed. A whine or whimper was the only warning he got before Stiles would lean over the bed to vomit more of that black vile crap coursing his system.

 

“T-is hurts.” Stiles cries whipping at his mouth with a cool rag that had been on his forehead a moment before.

 

Peter does what he can, pulling pain and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He had lost his shirt at some point, the thing getting soaked with sweat.

 

“I know baby, hopefully it will be over soon.” God Peter hopped so, Stiles was miserable. A ball of agony curled up in their bed. Peter suddenly wanted to destroy every trace of the flower off the face of the earth. How could something he hadn't even touched effect him so badly.

 

“The smell was so strong.” Stiles had said when he had first woken up. Deaton had assured him once his vomit was back to a normal color the foxglove would be out of his system.

 

“Deaton said foxglove is a very potent flower. It clings to everything, a small breeze pushes its pollen for miles.”

 

“I didn't even get close to her, she was at least a good five feet away from me.” Stiles hiccups before promptly leaning back over then bed once more. The sound of his retching makes Peter cringe with the force of it.

 

Stiles chokes, gags on an inhale that turns him red in the face.

 

“Hey, hey.” Peter is beside him then holding him up while he gasps. “Don't fight it sweetheart, I know you don't want to throw up anymore but you need to get it out.”

 

“I can't... I can't...” Nails dig into Peter's thigh, the sharp tang of panic overpowers the smell of vomit.

 

“Shhh, deep breath baby.” Peter rocks Stiles forward pulling the boy onto his lap. Seated on the edge of the bed so he can lean forward to expel the poison.

 

“S'hot.” The wolf leans his cheek against Stiles. The boy is burning up, so much so that Peter is suddenly worried he's over working his body. Easily lifting Stiles he moves to the bathroom turning on the cold tap to the shower and sitting Stiles inside.

 

He sighs happily.

 

They stay there for five hours.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

 

“Okay.” Stiles says the next day wondering into the kitchen to join the others. “I'm really freaked out here.”

 

Peter glances up from his coffee and news paper.

 

“What's the matter sweetheart?”

 

“Um, so I was just...” He shrugs as if not knowing what to say. “I felt lighter? Like to light so I weighted myself.” His voice tapers off, a frown on his face that makes Peter suddenly concerned.

 

“What's the matter honey, we can't help if we don't know.” Talia says walking over towards the boy.

 

“I'm 110 pounds.” Peter practically falls out of his chair he stands so quickly. He rounds the table and lifts Stiles shirt before he even thinks. Because surly there was no possible way for him to weight that much.

 

It's worse then hearing Stiles say how much he weights. His hips are so pronounced through his skin they could cut glass. His belly like when he had first found the fox was practically caving in on itself.

 

It had taken Peter, Talia and Doctor Deaton seven months to get Stiles to a healthy 150 pounds. How the hell had he dropped forty pounds over night.

 

“Jesus.” James says reaching for his phone. “I'm calling Alan.”

 

Peter nods dropping Stiles shirt back into place. The sweats he was wearing were practically hanging of his hips.

 

“I'm so hungry.” Stiles moans holding his stomach.

 

Talia and Peter quickly rush to make as much protein packed food as they can think of.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“This is.” Deaton is frowning over at Stiles. He had been eating for a good hour now, but no matter what they put in front of him seemed to help his hunger.

 

“You're sure the vomit was only black before it turned into normal stomach acid?” The doctor ask, Stiles is chewing on a Peanut butter sandwich as the doctor takes his blood pressure.

 

“Yes, the bags are out back in the trash if you want to check yourself, but nothing was different from when first started throwing the black shit up on the porch.”

 

“I do want the bags, I'd like to run some labs on them. The only thing I can think of what happened was the foxglove was so powerful it ate away and most of the fat his body stored.”

 

Stiles had moved onto a bowl of sliced apples, dipping them in peanut butter as he went.

 

“All he did was inhale the shit, he didn't touch it. Didn't eat it, why the hell was it so powerful?”

 

“It must be a new breed of flower, I'll call Victoria and see if I can find the spot they got the flat and get some of the flowers to study just in case they start growing were they aren't suppose to.”

 

“You keep that shit far way from him.” Peter snarls.

 

“Of course. I keep it in lock up no one will get near it. I'll make sure Scott stays far way from it when he's helping out at the vet's office.”

 

As Deaton turned to leave he paused. “I'll send Scott home with supplements for Stiles. We need to pack as much weight on him as soon as possible. Since he finally had his first heat two months ago there's no telling when he'll go into his next one until they regulate themselves.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Peter wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of crying. He jerks himself up in bed eyes homing in on Stiles who's rocking himself back and forth. There was no telling how long he had been sleeping through his mates distress. Since none of them got enough sleep the night before.

 

“Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

 

“It's stupid.” He says whipping at his eyes. “I'm sorry I woke you, go back to sleep Peter.”

 

“Tsk.” Peter hooks his arms around his too small mate and pulls him onto his lap. “Nothing that upset's you is stupid Stiles.”

 

“It is right now, I'm crying because I'm hungry. So hungry I couldn't sleep, but I went and ate and I still want more. That's stupid, this is stupid.”

 

“What would you like to eat?”

 

“What?”

 

Peter chuckles. “What would you like to eat sweetheart, and no by the way. It isn't stupid, you lost forty pounds in under a day. Anyone would be starving.”

 

“I could eat dirt right now and be happy.” Stiles finally says.

 

“Well unfortunately dirt isn't really pleasing to the taste buds, but I'm sure I could whip up some french toast and sausage for you.”

 

Stiles giggles.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

People stare at him as he eats lunch. He can feel their eyes on him, the whispers as he eats. Jackson and Scott are sitting as close as possible. Each having got extra food for Stiles to eat. Boyd sat in front of him, placing tarot tots on Stiles tray before continuing to eat his burger. Erica smiles at her mate before dropping a handful of chocolate bars next the the tots.

 

Cora too as she seats herself next to Erica places and apple and orange on his plate.

 

“Everyone's staring.” Stiles whispers, snagging the orange of the tray to pile it.

 

“They can go fuck themselves, eat Stiles. Peter will have our heads if you don't.” Cora says sneering at a group of guys that walk by gawking at the amount of food on the table. They quickly turn away.

 

“It's been two weeks. I've only put on five pounds.”

 

“You're eating to healthy, maybe we should put you on a junk food diet. I'm sure you'd start packing on the pounds then.”

 

“I can't constantly eat pie, cake and chips Erica.” The thought was actually rather repulsive.

 

“Okay, but eat a little more carbs triple up the protein. Well make you some of those weird drinks Derek makes before he works out. It has whey in it or something isn't that suppose to help you bulk up?”

 

“It's not a bad idea actually. Derek was kinda skinny at the beginning of high school, he packed on a good twenty pounds in two months with those drinks so he could join the lacrosse team.”

 

“I can't imagine scrawny Derek.” Stiles says with a smile.

 

“Good, because it was awkward and kinda creepy. His head looks more proportioned to his body now.”

 

“That's really mean Cora.”

 

“Hey I only speak the truth.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

It's three weeks in before Deaton finally calls. The news of course is not something Peter was wanting to hear.

 

“These flowers are definitely a new breed. They have been cross-contaminated with bloodroot.” Talia and James are listening in.

 

“Now if you don't know what bloodroot is, it's a flower produces benzylisoquinoline alkaloids, which is primarily the toxin sanguinarine. Now the problem with that is sanguinarine kills animal cells, whoever bred these plans had the intended propose to kill werefoxes and quickly.”

 

There's a shuffle of papers over the phone. It doesn't calm Peter's rising fears any.

 

“Now why they were on the side of the road is another story. Those plants seem to grow rather rapidly. I took some seeds just to see how fast, and Peter it only took them two weeks to fully bloom. I walked a good four miles into those trees it was absolutely cover in those flowers.”

 

“Put the phone on speaker Peter.” He does as he's told.

 

“Is that what caused Stiles rapid weight loss?” Talia asks.

 

“Yes, I tested some of the bile he purged. It's littered with dead fat cells. So now his body has to make more, all why trying to deal with the stress of his body being underweight. I will again be sending Scott home with more supplements. Now I whipped these up myself, so if he has any adverse effects he needs to stop talking them immediately.”

 

“What the hell are we suppose to do about the field of flowers? That shit can't keep spreading like that.” Peter snaps. The last thing they needed was those fucking flowers in Beacon Hills.

 

“Oh, nothing. It would seem somehow over twenty miles of forest burned down two weeks ago.”

 

Peter chuckled. “Now doctor, let's say I wanted to thank whom ever set the fire what would you think they would like?”

 

“Mmm, now I can't really be sure but there is this fantastic bakery in town that makes lovely baskets filled with angel food cake and the likes.”

 

Peter ordered a basket the next day, then took one home for Stiles.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

It took another week for Peter to realize that yes Deaton's supplements had an interesting affect on Stiles. In the form of touching, not that he was suddenly repulsed by touch but that he couldn't get enough of it.

 

The softness of a blanket he laid curled in as he read. The feel of Maz's fur under his fingers, the brush of someone's skin against his. Stiles was touching everything and everyone so much it took Cora snapping one day for anyone to notice.

 

“That's twelve times now you've petted my head Stiles. What's going on with you!”

 

Peter stops what he's doing in the kitchen to glance towards the living room. Stiles is standing behind Cora, his fingers buried in her hair stroking it.

 

“It feels nice against my skin.”

 

Cora jerks away glaring. “That is the creepiest shit I have ever heard you say.”

 

Stiles frowns as the hair is gone from under his fingers. He then decides to Peter's great amusement to pet Derek who is the next closest person. The older boy tenses but doesn't move away, unwilling to upset Stiles.

 

Peter moves towards his mate, staring. Manly at his eyes or more so his blown pupils.

 

“He's high as a kit.” Peter's says with a laugh. How he hadn't realized he wasn't sure, maybe because they were always touching.

 

“Did you take your supplements?” Peter asks pulling Stiles hand away from Derek's head. The wolf sighs once the fingers are gone. Stiles long fingers strokes Peter's shirt instead.

 

“Yes, after every meal just like Deaton said.” A cheek rubs against his chest.

 

“You feel nice.”

 

“Oh, gross.” Cora quickly leaves the room.

 

Peter doesn't take him off the supplements, seeing as Stiles had put on fifteen pounds since he started taking them. He only had twenty more to go before he was back at his normal weight. Everyone could suffer through some light petting if it made Stiles better.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles is 145 pounds when his new petting fascination becomes a problem. Not a problem for Peter of course, he roars with laughter when he finds out what happened.

 

“No more Peter!” Scott shouts one day stomping into the house. A very quite pouting fox behind him, and Jackson who is grinning like an idiot behind Stiles. Cora too seems to be laughing hysterically.

 

“And please do tell me what you mean McCall.”

 

“No more supplements for Stiles, he's only five pounds away I think we can stop them now. I literally can not take anymore of this.”

 

“What happened?” Derek asks walking into the living room.

 

“What happened was Stiles creeped up behind me while I was taking a drink. Just slid right up against my back and started petting me. I was so shocked I spit my drink out into Harris face as he walked by. I got three days of dentition and it wasn't even my fault or on purpose!”

 

“I'm sorry Scotty.” Stiles whispers, glancing up towards Scott with big amber eyes that shinned with tears.

 

Scott melts into a puddle of goo. “Ugh, I'm no mad at you Stiles. I'm sorry I yelled.”

 

All was forgiven.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles is staring down at the scale when Peter creeps up behind him. Warm hands snaking around his waist. Peter's chin resting on the top of Stiles head.

 

“Mmm, yes. That's more like it, now I can hug you without worrying about crushing you.”

 

Stiles chuckles, turning into Peter's arms he lifts up kissing under Peter's chin. “You could have hugged me two weeks ago when I his 130.”

 

“Nope, you were still far to small. I had to refrain from getting turned on and possibly crushing you if we decided to have a go.”

 

“Are you saying you wanna have sex Peter?”

 

“You do smell quite lovely right now love.” Peter bumps his nose against Stiles. The boy smiles in answer, kissing the neck close to his lips.

 

“Then what are you waiting for?”

 

The night is spent in a tangled mess of soft moans and sharp cries of pleasure. Two very busy mates to caught up in each other to remember to go to dinner. The sharp knock on the door when someone goes to check on them.

 

Then the horrified gasp and gag of Cora who had been unfortunate enough to open the door to find out why the pair hadn't answered.

 

The girl screams about being scarred for life after seeing Stiles ride Peter like the world was ending. Laura's loud howl of laughter rings through the house.

 

The wolf and his little fox don't notice, to love struck to even care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Cora, okay not really. Hope you enjoyed.   
> I think something fishy is going on here.


	9. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long delay in the update. I hit a wall with my muse, but I hoping he's back now. This chapter is a lot shorter then the last and I'm hoping just as good. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. It's been a hectic few months so I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving!

 

He didn't know what set it off, stress? The now constant hum of a memory filtering in the back of his mind. But he was dreaming, he knew he was. He was short of fingers, the walls of his old home frayed and bowed at the edges if he looked for a second to long. The distant echo of his mothers laughter as she ushered Stiles to bed. The kiss that lacked the warmth of his mother skin. The ruffle of his hair being tussled by a large hand of his father, he didn't feel it. He saw the movement, felt a light pressure but not the love behind it. The burn of their skin. It wasn't there.

 

“Goodnight my sweet baby fox.” His mother cooed. The same phrase every night, right before bed. Right as she gave a pretty smile and headed for the bedroom door.

 

“Night kiddo.” His dad always winked at that, like he was telling a joke no one knew but him and Stiles. It had always made him giggle. Always made him feel like he knew something no one else did. Then the door would close and he was all alone. His star wars blankets should be soft against his skin, but again he couldn't feel it as he curled into his pillow.

 

He never wanted to remember that night. Didn't want to recall how he was pulled from his sleep by the distant screams of his mother. The shout of his dad demanding she go get Stiles.

 

“Get Stiles and Run!” The slam of feet as his mother obeyed. A gun shot sounded, glass shattered somewhere down stairs.

 

Then his door flies open, his mother rushes in. Her flora shit was wrinkled from her day. Her jeans wet with something Stiles never took the time to notice until now. He couldn't see well if he looked to long, couldn't feel when he touched. But he could smell it, the blood. The gash on his mom's leg was pooling so much blood from her Stiles nearly chokes on the scent. More gun shot's have Stiles jumping towards his moms out stretched arms. She easily catches him, holding him close. Then she's running towards the window, flinging it open and jumping landing below on her feet like it was nothing.

 

His arm catches a nail sticking out cutting into his skin but he doesn't have time to cry out before his mother was running.

 

They run, like dad had said. She takes Stiles and runs. Dad joins them not long after, staying a few paces behind. Keeping everyone away from them, tree's fly by. A blur of green and brown. He never remembered when he started crying. Doesn't know what happens when he's suddenly hitting the ground. His world rattles, but then his dad is there pulling him and his mother to their feet.

 

“Run.” He always says, a memory Stiles doesn't want to remember. He always runs, his feet hurt not having shoes, but he doesn't stop. Never stops because his dad said to run, and he does. They run for miles and miles. Never stopping, not even when Stiles legs hurt to badly. His dad would pick him up, his feet eating up the earth under his boots. More miles move by, then Stiles is running on his own again.

 

There's gun fire, she mom screams for him to keep looking forward.

 

“Don't look back baby. Don't look back!” He keep's his eyes straight. He listens, the heavy breathing of him and his parents. The wild sound of several heartbeats in his ears. All the people chasing behind them.

 

Then a shot, blood sprays on his face and he jerks to a stop. Turning around to see his dad crumble to the ground. Not even the leaves cushion his fall. His mom is screaming, but dad doesn't get back up. Not when he begs and cries. Not when he pulls on the hand that is suppose to be warm in his grip.

 

“Daddy!” Run, his dad had said but they aren't running now. Stiles moves back to do as he was told but his mom. His mom isn't. She's trying to take dad with her, trying to pull him along.

 

“Mom!” He had screamed, but she doesn't listen. Doesn't even turn towards him. He had begged and pleaded. Just keep going.

 

“Please, just keep going.”

 

Dark shadows rush forward. She mom screams and fights, and ax swings. Stiles is frozen, her cries cut off with a gurgle. His parents laid in a tangled mess of one another, almost like they are embracing each other. Their blood mingles together in the earth. The figures in front of him don't have faces, there big meaty bodies covered in black clothing he thinks he's seen before. A warning of some sort, something from a movie.

 

Hands reach for him.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

 

A scream of terror rips Peter from sleep. He bolts upright automatically grabbing at Stiles as he thrashes in the bed. His mates legs are kicking wildly as he wails, the cat dives off the bed hiding. Running from the screams. The walls vibrate with it. The smell of terror is so thick the wall are coated in it. A howl rips through the house, heard even over the sound proofing. Jackson was awake, feeling the fear from his master. Pulling him effectively from his sleep.

 

Peter pulls Stiles into his arms. Locking the boy against his chest, Stiles rears back, slamming his back against Peter's chest.

 

“Run!” The boy cries out. His eyes still tightly closed. Still locked in his nightmare.

 

“I got you sweetheart, it's me Stiles. It's me.” The screams don't stop, but they do drop in volume. A choked sob, a wild intake of breath. He's wheezing past a scream that was building.

 

Peter brushes his hand down Stiles wet cheeks. “No, baby. I got you. I got you.” His lungs can't take any more screaming, Peter can hear them seizing up, panic taking hold as Stiles realizes he can't breathe. Not past his panic, not past his fear.

 

“Come on deep breath.” Peter tries to coach him through it. Fingers digging into his chest lightly, rubbing as his sternum.

 

“Killed them.” A gasp, choking. “Killed them.”

 

Peter frowns, still rubbing. Rocking slightly, breathing deeply as well to have Stiles mimic the movement. The reflex to breath.

 

“His blood.” Stiles shutters, takes a deep breath. His heart was pounding in Peter's ears, screaming a beat so loudly the wolf thought it would explode.

 

“You're okay baby.” I got you. Peter thought. I always got you.

 

“It was on my face. His blood, it was on my face.” Stiles wildly slaps at the skin of his cheek, as if checking to make sure the blood from so many years ago wasn't still there. Peter gently grabs that flailing arm keeping Stiles from hurting himself.

 

“There's nothing on your face love.”

 

A broken sob rips from Stiles throat, quickly followed by another. It's a long process. From screaming himself awake to breaking down into such a harsh cycle of crying that he finally passes out from exhaustion again. Peter waits, making sure he is deeply asleep before laying him down and tucking him back in. Then he's up and moving towards the door and exiting, not surprised to find a crowed of his pack standing there.

 

Jackson's howl had effectively woken everyone up. The wolf familiar looks past Peter towards Stiles checking on him. Peter tilts his head towards the stairs, he leaves the door open before heading down. No point in trying to go back to sleep now. Not when it was five A.M and everyone was already awake. Once in the kitchen he starts the coffee, knowing he would need it. That everyone would need it.

 

“I'm sorry I howled.” Jackson says as he plops down into a chair at the table. “I woke up and all I could feel was Stiles terror. The noise came out before I even noticed.”

 

James pats the boy on the shoulder as he walks by. “No worries kid, that's a handy Stiles radar you have there.”

 

“I still didn't mean to wake everyone up. I hadn't expected my howl to work past soundproofing, at least no the stuff installed in these walls.”

 

Talia gives a lazy shrug. “It's never really happened. Your howls must be different from ours, your tied to a lunar fox. I would assume you would need a more powerful howl to scare off threats.”

 

Jackson frowns but doesn't question it. It's not like they have a lot of information on Stiles, or familiars. Like always where Stiles was involved they had to wing it. Not that it bothered anyone, but still. It would be nice sometimes to have some clues that weren't just myths.

 

“What scared him?” Erica grumbles, her face was pressed against the table, her blonde hair tied in a messy knot on top of her head.

 

“A nightmare about the night his parents died.” Finally with coffee in hand he sits, rubbing at his face. Peter took his first cup of coffee black to wake him. Cream and sugar in the rest. He sipped at the hot black liquid gold.

 

“Does he get those often?” Jackson asked eyes wide. In the weeks he had been here Stiles had only one nightmare. The one after he killed Jennifer and Peter died.

 

“No, I think he blocked it out to be honest. I don't know what's triggered it now.” So many damn questions.

 

“Stress most likely. He's been on edge since the hunters came to town. Maybe he'll feel a little better after tomorrow.”

 

Peter smiled. Yes tomorrow. All there pups aside from Cora of course were graduating. Stiles had been excited. Nervous of course, he was valedictorian. The highest raking GPA in the school. The whole state most likely. There wasn't a lot of high school kids who only been to school for the small amount of time as Stiles did and was leaving with a 4.0 solid A's all the way through.

 

“God, I can't wait to see Lydia's face.” Erica says with a wild laugh. “Then she gets to be shipped off right after graduating. No big time collage for her until her grandma removes her from her prison cell.”

 

“You don't think she would try anything do you?” Isaac asks looking nervous.

 

Peter shakes his head. “No, not with her grandmother present. She doesn't want to inflame that woman's wrath anymore then she already has.”

 

“What's so scary about a grandma? Mine was always the sweetest person.” Erica says with a sad sigh.

 

“She's a banshee, and old wise powerful one. Plus Mary grew up in a home were being cruel to others wasn't tolerated. If you did something to harm another you were punished. Lydia is just lucky her grandmother doesn't punish her like Mary's mother would.”

 

“How do you know this?” Scott asked, voice a grumbled mess. The kid wasn't even fully awake to Peter's amusement.

 

“I'm very close with Mrs. Mary, we use to talk a lot.”

 

“Sounds creepy.” Was Scott's muttered reply. The kids eyes dropped shut his head bobbing forward before his head snapped back up. He blinked. “Gonna go back to sleep. Big day tomorrow. So glad we get the day off before the cape and gown crap.”

 

Scott stumbled out the room, Isaac following slowly behind him rubbing at his eyes. Then it turned into a train of half awake teens, stumbling around to get back to their beds.

 

“Whatever are they going to do when they actually get to collage?” James says with a laugh as he watches them go. Derek blinked after them.

 

“They are screwed if they think sleeping is actually a thing in collage.” Laura says with a sleepy laugh. “But yea, I'm following after them as well. I stayed up late writing a paper. Unfortunately me not being at school doesn't mean I don't have homework.”

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

It was two days later that Peter got a strange phone call. Someone had broken in to the old Stilinski residents. Since Peter was a man that didn't take to turning a blind eye to such strange happenings he rushed to the police station John Stilinski once worked. His old partner met him at the front of the station.

 

“You made better time then I was hoping for.” Officer Lakin was in his early fifties dark hair graying at the sides his dark eyes aged over the years.

 

“I don't want to take this lightly. If someone is breaking into their old home I need to know, so I can keep Stiles safe.”

 

Lakin nodded sadly. “How is he doing, I haven't seen that kid since he was a little guy running around the station.”

 

“He's been having a bad couple of days, nightmares about his parents dying.” Nightmares the last three nights that left his little mate screaming and crying. He had been contently sick to his stomach do to nerves. Nothing the last few days have calmed him besides hiding under the bed with Maz.

 

Peter hated when Stiles got so worked up.

 

“Does he know who did it?” There was a hope in the mans voice, that Peter was aware that had been sitting there for ages.

 

“No, just running. The sound of gunfire and his mom and dad dying.” He seemed to be having the same dream on repeat. Peter just wished it would stop already. Wished Stiles could have a good night rest.

 

“Well, how about we head out to the house. I doubt we will find anything but it wouldn't hurt to look.”

 

Peter was just curious as to why someone would suddenly break into a house after so many years. A house Peter new was now empty because he had taken everything from it. Why now was someone interested in the Stilinski's? It was going on almost ten years and now someone was poking their nose in places they didn't belong. If someone thought they were going to get their hands on his mate they had another thing coming. He would slaughter anyone who laid hands on his little fox.

 

The grass at the Stilinski house was so over grown it was almost impossible to make out the porch. But with his keen eyes he found the steps easily to take him to the front door. The door that had been broken off its hinges. Eyes narrowed Peter slowly made his way inside. He was reluctant to do so, he didn't want traces of this house left on his clothes to upset Stiles but it had to be done. It was possible he could have Talia distract Stiles so he could shower and change his clothes before Stiles took notice of the scent.

 

The house was empty of course. Nothing but a fine layer of dust had settled on the floor, large foot prints were left behind. Several someone's, large booted feet and a few smaller ones.

 

“I can't possibly know what anyone would be looking for here.” Officer Lakin says his eyes scanning the old kitchen. It wasn't until Peter moved towards the sink did he notice what was in the backyard. His heart froze in his chest, the back door that was hanging open blow the scent of flowers and earth into the small kitchen.

 

Foxglove.

 

The backyard was nothing more then a large field of foxglove, and now Peter's clothes and skin was coated in the stuff. Because now that he was looking close enough it wasn't just dust settled on every flat surface. It was pollen, thick yellow pollen that clung to everything it touched.

 

Hell even Peter's shoes were covered in it. He would have to burn everything. He would have to make sure his hair and skin was completely clean before he could get anywhere close to his mate.

 

“Maybe someone had just wanted to squat in the house?” Peter knew he was lying, but the officer didn't need to know that.

 

“It's possible, or it could have been some teenagers looking for a place to drink.” The cop sighed. “I guess it's a good thing you took everything out of the house before they decided to break in.”

 

Yes, it was good. But now Peter was more specious then ever because those flowers hadn't been here a few months ago when the wolf had come to get Stiles belongings. Now the yard was full of them, as if waiting for Stiles to return.

 

Waiting all pretty and deadly to kill him.

 

“There isn't really anything to see here so I'll head back home, if anything comes up please give me a call.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter had already dumped his shirt and pants before he climbed in his car. It was odd driving home in nothing but his boxers but he had the rest of his clothing tucked into a bag to depose off once he got home. The line to Talia rang twice before his sister answered. She only got out a quite hello before Peter was speaking.

 

“Talia I need you to take Stiles out, go get food or something but get him out of the house.”

 

“Why, what's wrong?” His sister may be questioning him but he could here his sister moving to do as he asked.

 

“Stiles old home was one big death trap. Foxglove flowers everywhere. The house was covered in its pollen before I even noticed it.”

 

Talia growled. “Which means it's on your skin and clothes.”

 

“Yes, and now my fucking car. I'm riding home in my damn boxers to keep it from spreading but I'm likely just to burn the car as well. I don't want to risk Stiles in anyway if I miss something.”

 

Talia gave a short sharp curse. “Okay, I'll take him out to go grocery shopping with me. We'll be gone for a couple of hours. Maybe rinse off a few times outside with the water hose before going to take a shower.”

 

“I had planned on it. I'm going to use the shower in the basement, I'm going to take the tunnel to get in that way so I don't possibly track it in.”

 

“Understood, I let the kids know to stay out of there until we have everything cleaned. We'll tow your car into town tomorrow to sell it, no point in burning it when you can make money on the thing.”

 

“Hmm fair point I suppose, maybe we will look for Stiles a car.”

 

Talia chuckled. “Speaking of Stiles, should I tell him what's happening?”

 

Peter sighed. “No, I'll speak to him tonight when I see him.” It was best the boy heard it from him rather then someone else.

 

“We'll use the car as a graduation gift.” Peter says as an after thought. They had already done the graduation ceremony but other then a ring with the word Always engraved in it Peter hadn't gotten him anything else.

 

Now Stiles took to turning the ring around on his finger when he became nervous.

 

“If that's what you want Peter.”

 

Peter knew that tone of voice. The one that said Talia wanted to argue but she was choosing not to, to prove a point. Peter wasn't to sure what point she was trying to prove but the wolf doubted it would happen. Stiles was a fantastic driver. Peter had let the boy drive his car on more then one occasion after he had taken Jackson's car. The wolf had even taken Stiles to get his license not that the boy left often enough to need it, but it was a handy thing to have.

 

Peter hung up with his sister and continued his way home. He needed to get clean and put the car away and out of Stiles range of smelling. The last thing he wanted was Stiles to relive that horrible poison that was foxglove.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter could feel the anxiety building in Stiles, it had been days now. With the reoccurring nightmares, the knowledge his old home was nothing more then one large death trap Stiles had been restless. Peter hated it, loathed the fact that his little mate was so scared. Frightened enough that he hadn't even been leaving the house again.

 

He had a brand new Jeep and he didn't even have the courage to leave to drive it.

 

Peter was sitting in the library flipping through a book hoping to find a combination of herbs that he could turn into a tea that would help sooth some of Stiles anxiety. He could call Deaton he supposed but the last round of herbs the vet had sent had gotten Stiles high. Not that it hadn't been amusing to watch but Peter really didn't think getting the kid wasted would help him any.

 

He knew he was wasting time trying to make a tea when he need to find out who entered Stiles old home but he couldn't risk anyone going there. Not for any reason, whom ever had broken in had effectively made sure no one close to Stiles could enter without possibly killing the fox.

 

“Peter?” The wolf glances up smiling softly at Stiles as he moves towards the stack of books Peter is sitting in front of.

 

“Yes sweetheart?”

 

“Something bad is coming.” The wolfs smile vanishes the moment he hears the haunted echo of Stiles voice. Climbing to his feet Peter swiftly moves towards Stiles, in seconds he can see the burning whites of the foxes eyes.

 

“What's coming?” Peter asks taking Stiles smooth cheeks into his hands.

 

“Their coming for me.” Whispers the boy, eyes blinking slowly between each word.

 

Dimly Peter see's his sister round the corner. “Who's coming for you?”

 

“Soon.” Stiles whispers, voice echoing lightly. “They will come for me soon.”

 

“Who Stiles? Who's coming for you?” Peter wants to shake the answers out of his little mate. Wants to shout at the Luna fox taking control and demand he be told something more.

 

“They will bring forth the darkness to steal my light.” As soon as the words leave Stiles lips he boy goes limp, the only thing keeping him from crumbling to the floor is Peter's quick hands snagging him from the air.

 

“Stiles?” Tapping at the boys cheek Peter tries to ruse him, all he gets in response is a quite slumbered breath. Thinking back to the day Stiles had used to much magic Peter checks to make sure he isn't in an pain before breathing a sigh of reliefe.

 

“Is he alright?” Talia asks moving towards the pair with a frown.

 

“He passed out but he's not harmed.”

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Once Stiles wakes up he has no memory of walking into the library and speaking to Peter, and the lack of that memory doesn't help with the boys mounting stress. Stiles spends two hours sitting on the couch spinning the ring resting on his ring finger. Rolling the pretty silver metal, watching as it catches the light a reflects back at him. His teeth crewing aimlessly at his lips, pulling and biting until Jackson shifts and plops down in the boys lap.

 

Stiles give a small smile before tangling his fingers in the wolfs multicolored fur, pulling and stroking it gently until his tense shoulders finally relax.

 

Peter is happy for this one small moment of peace for his little fox, but night is falling and no matter how hard Stiles wanted to fight the need to sleep Peter could feel his mates exhaustion from the kitchen.

 

The pack had tried many things to help Stiles relax enough to sleep, but no matter what they do he still spends hours tossing a turning before his body can't fight off the need for rest anymore. With each passing day it gets harder to get Stiles to sleep.

 

Talia had given in and let the boy do every task in the house that needed to be done in the hopes of tiring him out. Derek had spend hours talking and reading with Stiles, hoping the constant stream of mental work would make the fox sleepy. Laura had dragged him around the house with her talking on a constant stream that would be dizzying but Stiles small smile egged her on.

 

Scott, Isaac and Boyd challenged Stiles in several games they had no hope of winning against Stiles on the Xbox. With each new round each wolf slowly came to the realization it was just impossible to try to beat Stiles in a game. Even tactical ones that had little to do with brain work didn't help them win. The last thing to be tried was coxing Stiles into shifting and running around the house with Jackson, it probably would have been more effective outside but trying to get the little fox to leave the safety of the house was about as easy as pulling teeth without the proper tools.

 

It was well past four A.M before Stiles just couldn't hold out anymore and fell into a restless slumber.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter wasn't to sure what first woke him, the room was oddly quite, quite to the point the wolf almost rolled over and went back to sleep, but one sharp inhale had Peter bolting up in bed so fast the headboard slammed into the wall.

 

Blood. The pungent tang of blood had the wolf blindly reaching towards Stiles edge of the bed, his larger hand falling towards the fox who should be curled up behind him. Peter's hand met with the sticky warmth of blood. With a snarl he whipped around claws extended but froze at what he saw. With a curse he dropped his claws and frantically reached for his sleeping fox, being gentle as he cradled Stiles face and tried to cox the boy into releasing the meaty flesh of his forearm out from between his sharp teeth.

 

“Stiles, sweetheart?” Peter calls out, stroking Stiles pale jaw. Feeling the tense muscles there as he sank his teeth into now bloody flesh of his mole speckled arm. “Come on baby wake up.”

 

Peter could seeing the rapid eye movements behind Stiles closed lids. What ever dream he was having was kick starting the once slow even pace of Stiles heart into overdrive. Between the slam of his heart against his ribs and the pungent smell of blood, Peter's wolf was crawling the depths of his mind. Whining at his mates distress.

 

“Sweetheart wake up.” Peter demands in a much harder voice. One he wouldn't normally use on Stiles, his new alpha voice seemed to jolt something in his little omega because Stiles pale amber eyes flow open. His jaw finally releasing the now mangled flesh of his arm. The little foxes mouth was opened in a silent scream as he was ripped from his nightmare.

 

Then the noise actually was able to leave Stiles throat. The scream breaking through so suddenly and shocking loud that Peter heard the windows vibrate. In seconds Stiles was flying up in bed, Peter's hands being ripped from his face as his mate flung himself off the bed and back peddled until he slammed into the wall.

 

Peter was moving in the next instant, for the moment ignoring the alarming amount of blood on the bed and the small trail Stiles had left behind as he pressed himself against the wall.

 

“They killed them.” Stiles whispers eyes frantically looking around the room. “So much blood.”

 

Peter sighs, hating these nightmares. Hating that Stiles is having to relieve his parents death over and over again every night as he tries to rest.

 

“It's okay sweetheart.” Peter whispers, unable to say anything else. What could he possibly say? His parents were taken from him, stole away curly right before his eyes.

 

“I know them.” Stiles whispers, dazed eyes moving up towards Stiles. “I saw them before.”

 

Peter's eyes narrow. “Who was it sweetheart?”

 

Stiles licks at his bloody lips, his shoulders shaking. “I... I can't make out their faces, b-but I knew them. They...” Stiles shudders. “I know them.”

 

“That's okay baby.” Peter says then pulling Stiles into his arms, looking over the torn flesh of the boys arm. “Don't force the memory baby, I know your tired and scared but it will come back to you in time.”

 

As much as Peter hated it, they needed these memories to return. Needed Stiles to remember who came after his family, if not only to get justice for his fallen parents but to also keep him safe.

 

“There going to take me away, aren't they?” Stiles asks voice small as he curls up against Peter's chest.

 

“Over my dead body love.” No one was touching his mate unless they wanted to fucking die.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“Are you okay with going to see your dad?” Stiles asks, shifting on his feet in front of Jackson who was pacing in front of the door. “You don't have to see him you know, you can stay here. He can't do anything about it.”

 

Jackson shrugs, like he doesn't have a care in the world but Stiles knows better.

 

“He says he just wants to talk for a bit, spend some time with me.” Jackson rolls his shoulders. “I think I hate him but not enough to leave him alone on moms death anniversary.”

 

Stiles nods. “If you need me just text or call okay. I'll come.”

 

Jackson snorts. “It's my job to protect you Stiles, not the other way around.”

 

Stiles give one small pretty smile. He hadn't been doing that a lot here lately so Jackson was more then please to see the slight up turn of the boys lips.

 

“You're my pack, I will protect you as much as you protect me. Plus lets face it, life would be a bit dull if you weren't around.”

 

The wolf rolls his eyes. “You just get amusement out of me irritating Cora and Erica.”

 

Stiles grins then. “Don't tell them that, there's no telling what they would do to me if they found out.”

 

“Probably try to dress you better.” Jackson shots off at the mouth as he pulls his keys from the bowl by the door and pulls it open.

 

“There is nothing wrong with the way I dress!” Stiles yells out towards the wolf who laughs loudly.

 

“You were far to much plaid Stilinski, you should really allow me to dress you or at the very least Peter!”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

Dad won't let me leave.

 

Stiles frowns down at the text, eyes narrowing at the message Jackson had just sent him. He should have known his dad was up to something suddenly texting his son and begging to see him. Of course the nasty bastard would use the death of his mother as a way to sway the wolf into his home. Mr. Whittemore hadn't been happy about his child leaving to live with the Hale's but the man was smart enough not to try to fight it.

 

Not when the threat of death hung over his head. Not with Peter breathing down his neck like a rabid wolf chasing a rabbit.

 

Stiles chews on his lip as he grabs his keys and moves towards the door. It had been several weeks since he left the house, his anxiety to high and the stress from lack of sleep making more prone to panic attacks kept him locked away in the house. He felt like a coward hiding away, everyone moving about and doing everyday things while he sat at home a read, cleaned or cooked.

 

No one was home at the moment, so he couldn't take someone with him, but he couldn't leave Jackson trapped their either. He told his wolf he would come and Stiles refused to let his own silly fear and anxiety keep him from doing just that.

 

With a shaky breath his sends a text to Peter letting him know he was going to get Jackson and moves towards his Jeep. He hadn't drove it yet, being to afraid to leave to even attempt it but now as he fell into the seat and started it up he was almost excited to drive. The new leather smell and the purr of the engine calmed Stiles nerves as he heads towards the Whittemore's. He knew where it was just for this reason, just on the off chance Jackson's ass of a father tried anything stupid like kidnapping his son.

 

He was only a few miles from the Hale manor when an SUV slams into the back of his jeep, shocked he jerks the wheel loosing control. Stiles tires not to lock his body up as the car flips, he cries out as glass shattered and his head connects with the steering wheel.

 

Sparks fly as the car skids across the pavement before slamming into a trees. Whining Stiles tries to blink the blood out of his eyes, his heart pounding as he realizes he's hanging upside down. The view outside his broken windshield clouded with the smoke coming from under the hood of his car.

 

Stiles frantically reaches for his seat belt when he hears the sound of foot steps coming towards him. Hushed voices snapping and bitching at one another as they grow closer.

 

“I said get him off the road not fucking kill him.” A man hisses. The fox freezes, that angry voice echoing in his ears. A memory of a voices screaming in his mind.

 

“The little freak isn't dead.” A women growls back, voice pitched low and annoyed.

 

“You better hope he's not little girl.” Black boots appear just outside the drives side door as two someones kneel down and peek inside at the trapped fox.

 

“Hello Stiles.” The man says with a sicking smile. The fox whines, not understanding how he hadn't noticed it before. How he couldn't remember these monsters the first time he had saw them months ago.

 

“Gerard.”

 

Kate giggles. “Oh look daddy, it seems he finally remembers.”

 

Stiles magic flares in his chest, his eyes shining brightly but just before he could let his spell lose a taser connects with his neck making him cry out once before he falls into the darkness tries to take hold.

 

“We've been looking for you.” Gerard whispers as he falls into nothingness.


	10. Trickster

 

 

Jackson stomps into the house half past eight, pissed off and beyond annoyed with his father. How dare that bastard try to blackmail him into staying at home, like the man really had anything worthwhile hanging over his son's head to keep him there. It shouldn't surprise him really, that his dad would use his mother to get him to come over.

 

But he had hoped, some small part of him wished his father wasn't such a conniving lowlife.

 

“What took you two so long?” Jackson raises a brow at Scott's shouted question as he walks into the living room.

 

“What do you mean two? It's just me.” Jackson rubs at the back of his neck, pulling at the hairs there. Something had been itching in the back of his mind for a while now but he just couldn't place his finger on it.

 

“You and Stiles.” Scott asks, his voice dropping low. “He went an got you.”

 

Jackson shivers. “No he didn't” The wolf whispers, his eyes frantically looking around the living room as the others make there way from the kitchen. Stiles wasn't with them, the fox wasn't curled up on the couch reading, or standing at Peter's side.

 

“But..” Scott looks wildly towards Peter, the older wolf going suddenly pale with fear. A look Jackson would never get use too, nothing should make Peter Hale look scared.

 

“He sent me a text at three saying you messaged him.” Jackson could hear the snarl building in the wolfs throat, but the younger man knew it wasn't because of him. Or a threat to him. Suddenly remembering leaving his phone unattended in his dads home the wolf pulls it from his pocket and pulls up his messages.

 

“What the fuck.” Jackson stares wide eyed down at the message to Stiles, one he didn't send himself. Which meant... “He played me!” The wolf screamed pacing the floor his phone groaning in his hand with how hard he was squeezing it.

 

“Who!” Peter snarled, stomping towards the younger wolf.

 

“My dad!” Jackson sobs. “He fucking played me! He said he wanted to see me, I went because it's moms anniversary but he must have used my phone to text Stiles! To get him to leave the house.” Jackson pulled at his hair. “Oh god, where the fuck is he!?”

 

Even if Jackson could smell Peter's fear, could practically taste it the older man grabbed the scared kids shoulders and stopped his pacing, looking calm as can be.

 

“You can freak out later, but you are Stiles familiar. You can find him when no one else can, so I need you to calm down and close your eyes and feel for him. Find Stiles.”

 

Taking a shaky breath to calm himself Jackson shuts his eyes, feeling for that itch in the back of his mind. The one that had been humming at him for hours now, one he ignored in is annoyance with his father. It was dull, dimmed if you will. Stiles presents in his mind faded like a fog was blocking the wolf from fully reaching out to locate him.

 

“I...” Jackson tried to push past it, past that fog but hit a wall. He whined. “He's in pain.” Jackson whispered.

 

The hands on his shoulder tensed. “Ignore his pain.” Jackson could taste the hate in Peter having to say that. “Push past it and find him.”

 

“I can't” The boy whispered. “He's... he's unconscious. Not aware.”

 

“Try!” Peter barked out.

 

Jackson flinched but pushed forward more. He chocked, his knees buckling as more pain slammed into him. Peter held him up cursing.

 

“I can't!” Jackson cried.

 

“We're going to see your father.” Taila snarls.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter kicked down the door to his fathers study, the wood splintering and raining down on the wolves as they stalked into the large room. His bastard of a father jumped up with a shout, his face paling as he took in Hale pack standing in his wake. Not a single wolf stayed behind. Only a fool wouldn't be intimidated.

 

“Where is he?” Peter hissed, eyes flaring alpha red.

 

Jackson wanted to smile at the smell of his fathers fear.

 

“I don't know what you are talking about.” The older man hisses back, trying to sound brave and cocky but missing it by miles.

 

“Oh you poor stupid man.” Peter purrs as he slowly moves forward claws extended. “Do you really think you could lie to me? Did you really think, I would believe a word out of your fucking mouth?”

 

Malcolm swallows, sweat gathering across his brow. “I didn't do anything wrong.”

 

“Oh there is a list of things you have done wrong in your life time Malcolm.” Peter whispered, teeth bared, sharp and gleaming in the light. “Rape, murder. Then allowing your son to have a master like Lydia Martin. I could over look those thing, turn a blind eye like everyone else because we had no proof to put you away, but this.” Peter waves Jackson's phone. “You contacting my mate pretending to be your son to get him to leave the safety of our home.”

 

As quick as lightening Peter's hand snaps out and grabs my father by his throat. The hint of blood already in the airs as the wolfs claws dig into the meaty flesh of his fathers neck.

 

“Who are you helping?”

 

“N-no one.” Jackson snarls, teeth dropping and claws growing long. He took great pleasure in smelling his fathers mounting fear at the manic look in his sons eyes.

 

“You will tell me or your son is going to rip your fucking throat out. You have no idea what you have unleashed on yourself have you?” Peter laughs at the confused look on Malcolm's face. “Tell me now!”

 

“Hunters!” Malcolm screams as Jackson runs forward with a crazed snarl. The only thing that stops the blood thirsty boy is the warning snarl from his masters alpha.

 

“Keep talking.” Talia demands when Whittemore stops speaking.

 

“They called me, told me to ask Jackson to come over. To use his phone to get Stiles to leave the house!”

 

“Why?” Peter demands. “What could they possibly offer you to get you to help them?”

 

“They said they could get Jackson back to me!” Malcolm screams when Peter's claws dug in deeper. “I need him to be a fucking lizard, I had a damn deal with Lydia to get him to take out the assholes standing in my way to a huge payout.” His dad suddenly sneers as he looks towards his son. “You just had to fuck up my plans. You went and got turned into a proper fucking wolf after I went through all the damn trouble to turn your little depressed ass into a twisted fucking lizard in the first place!”

 

Jackson jerks back like he had been slapped, whining before he could even stop the sound.

 

“W-what?” Someone walks up behind him, dimly he takes in Scott's smokey scent as the teen drops a hand onto Jackson's shoulder.

 

“Don't look so surprised son.” His dad says with a laugh, all his previous fear melting away into an angry rage. “It was the plan from the start once your mother was out of the fucking picture. You were all broken and depressed, so hurt and feeling neglected. When that wolf came barreling into town on a rampage I just knew I could make money off it. Your mother told me such helpful things when she was alive, how could I not use that to my advantage. I lost millions when she died because she left everything to you!”

 

Jackson choked. “You... I could have died!”

 

“Who cares!” Malcolm screams. “Even if you died I still got a payout from the life insurance. Then that stupid fucking lunar fox comes to town and ruins everything.”

 

Everyone freezes, all eyes that had been looking towards Jackson in sympathy now staring at Malcolm in shock.

 

“Oh, surprise!” Malcolm says with a laugh. “Yea, I know what the little fuck is, you would be amazed at the things a siren knows.”

 

“S-siren?” Jackson asks with a small whisper.

 

“Your mother, fucking Siren. Tricky creatures but one hell of a magic in them. Not as powerful as a lunar fox though.” Whittemore's eyes cut to Peter. “I was so pissed when I learned you had him in your hands. He was suppose to be taken care of years ago, but the hunters sent in failed. Lost track of the little shit. Incompetent fools.”

 

“How do you know about Stiles?” Talia hisses out when no one moves to speak. With an angry huff Malcolm pulls himself loss from Peter's hold and flops down in his chair.

 

“Eva was close to the Stilinski's, a guardian of sorts for them, but when she died ten years ago any magic she had protecting them died away with her.” Malcolm snorts. “The hunters made their move that very night, though they hadn't expected John to put up such a fight or for them to get so far into the woods. That child of theirs was the first lunar fox to be born in centuries and those fools let him slip right between their fingers.”

 

“Where is he!?” Peter screams.

 

“I don't know, so you might as well kill me now because I won't know ever. I lost my payout the moment you walked through these doors and they spotted you.”

 

James and a few others runs out of the house then, looking for any signs of hunters that were long since gone.

 

“Why take Stiles?” Scott asks, shocking Jackson who had forgotten the wolf was standing behind him.

 

“Do you know the kind of magic that boy can wield? The things he can be made to do when put under enough pressure. He could wipe out every supernatural fuck on this planet with a single thought. He will rid this world from every nasty vile creature that should have never come to be.” Malcolm laughs. “And now he's in the hands of two of the most twisted hunters this world has ever seen. There won't be anything left of your Stiles once they are through with him.”

 

Jackson turns on his feet the moment Peter surges forward and mauls his father. The man he once thought loved him chokes on a scream before its drowned out by the sound of blood gurgling in his throat.

 

“Fucking burn in hell.” Jackson whispers as he walks out the front door.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Gerard's eyes narrow when the cries and moans of pain suddenly fall silent. Shifting in his seat his eyes catch Kate's as his daughter slowly climbs to her feet her own blue eyes homing in on the door that lead to the basement. It had been a none stop stream of screaming and whining in pain for the better part of four hours and the sudden silence did not sit well with the hunters.

 

“You don't think he just up and died on us do you?” Kate asks with a scruff, already pissed at the possibility the fox died.

 

Gerard sneered. “It's possible due to the damn injuries he got from that wreck you stupid girl.”

 

The older man moved towards the door, still annoyed with his daughter for being so reckless. She was an amazing hunter, had a wonderful kill history but in times when they needed information or in this case the power to sway a lunar fox she went overboard. The torture alone the boy received at the hands of Kate was deadly to the most powerful of Alpha's.

 

The warding on the wooded door frame glowed slightly as the hunter pulled it open and began moving down stairs. Checking there very being to give access down below, a handy trick Gerard had picked up before killing a mage. It kept other creators from getting in, but in Stiles case it kept him from getting out.

 

No matter how much force slammed into that door would get it to budge.

 

Gerard had been expecting many things when he finally made it down to the bottom. Stiles just being unconscious from his injuries, or even the fox being dead. What he hadn't expected however was for the little shit to be loss of his chains and sitting on the small ugly red sofa down there. Both hunters freeze, taking in the foxes calm possession as he leans slightly forward, elbows resting on his knees.

 

“What the fuck?” Kate shouts out rushing forward towards the fox, it's only her fathers quick hands that keep her from getting to close.

 

“Do not stupid girl.” The old man hisses as he whips the gun at the base of his spine out and points it at the kid. Stiles smiles then, a slight twitch as his battered and bruised face turns slightly more towards them. Those large eyes catch the light making Gerard step back, yanking Kate with him.

 

“What the hell dad?” She pulls at him arm to get lose but Gerard tightens his hold. “We need to chain him back up!”

 

“Look closely at him!” Gerard barks back, his eyes still trained on the still boy in front of them. So unwavering and still, watching them far to closely. The damn kid didn't even look threatened by the gun pointed at him.

 

“He's just sitting there, old man what's your problem?!”

 

Such an idiot child, Gerard thinks. “His eyes girl.” The hunter hisses. “They aren't right.”

 

Not for an Omega and definitely wrong for a lunar fox. Those eyes were staring right through them, looking into their souls.

 

“What the fuck?” Stiles giggles, waving his fingers towards Kate as she finally catches on.

 

“She's slow, your daughter.” The boy says with a toothy smile. Teeth far to sharp.

 

“Fuck you!” Kate shouts but she doesn't try to step forward again.

 

“Ooo, temper temper little hunter.” The boy glares. “Don't want to piss me off more than you already have now do you?”

 

“What the hell is happening?” Kate asks looking towards her father for just a moment. “Why does his eyes look like that? He should be cowering not threatening us.”

 

Gerard didn't actually have an answer for that, he thought he knew everything there was to know about a Lunar Fox. Years and years of research had given him a treasure trove of knowledge on such a rare breed of shifter. That wasn't counting what he had learned from the child himself with all the watching they had done on the Stilinski family.

 

Stiles giggled again, the sound musical but there was a haunted melody to it that sent a cold hand of dread down the hunters spines.

 

“Don't you know never to trust a fox.” Stiles smiles. “No matter the breed we are all still tricksters after all.”

 

“You're not Stiles.” Gerard observers, eyes narrowed on the bright black and purple swirling eyes.

 

“I am still very much Stiles.” The boy says in answer. “I have just simply put the hurt little omega to rest, you have strained him to much.” Hisses the fox, a snarl trapped behind his teeth.

Gerard jerks them back farther when the boy stands, blood drips from his fingers from where he had been holding the bloody gash along his belly.

 

“You think you have all this knowledge.” A quite chuckle. “I can see into your very being Argent, and let me tell you. You don't know half of what a Lunar fox is capable of.”

 

Kate is fumbling with her own gun as the boy takes another step forward but before she could even aim her own, both weapons sail from their hands and crash on the other side of the room.

 

“You're suppose to be all pure.” Say's Kate. “The light in the darkness.”

 

Stiles tilts his head to the side, those monstrous eyes narrowing. “Didn't you know girl, that there is even darkness in the light? It hides just out of the corner of your eye, unaware and waiting. Shadows grow and eat away at it. It feeds on that light, I'm pure in all forms but threaten me like you have and I'll show you those shadows.”

 

The hunters hurry back a few more paces until they are falling back, landing on the stairs with a loud thump.

 

“You couldn't run from me even if you wanted to.” Stiles whispers with a dark smile. “I wouldn't let you escape for any reason, I'm truly not even mad you threatened my life. It's expected, I was taught from childhood to expect it. Your real mistake? It was murdering my parents, it was planting Jennifer in my pack.”  
  


“Jennifer?” Kate scruffs. “She was only a mistake because she failed.”

 

Stiles roars, making the hunters flinch. Fear curling in their blood, something the two of them had never really felt before.

 

“She didn't fail, she did actually succeed in killing my mate but I brought him back. Whole and new. You let something lose against my pack, plotted to murder my alpha. Take away another family from me. I really hope it was worth it, your sickening need to rid the world of beings you consider monsters.” Gerard found he couldn't move, he couldn't even blink as pale fingers reached towards the fallen pair and brushing against their cheeks.

 

“The only monsters I see here are you.” The pain flairs to life in the next second, their skin heating, blood boiling in their veins. The hunters screams echo in the darkness of the basement. The hint of Stiles blood melting away as their own starts to flow from their skin.

 

The snap of bones and tendons tearing as the foxes magic moves just under the surface of their skin. Spreading and eating away at their very beings.

 

The boy moves back a few paces, sway almost like a dance as he watches his magic get to work. Those haunting eyes glowing in the shadows, a small smile on his lips. He really does not get any joy when the hunters at his feet explode. Their blood and guts painting himself and the walls, but there is a deep reliefe in him. A calm peace washing over Stiles as the threat to himself and his pack is finally out of the picture.

 

Stiles can feel the on set of magic overload, it hums within him, pulling him under. It's impossible to fight with the sheer amounts of injuries his body holds, but just before he crashes to the ground he calls for his wolf.

 

Calls for help.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

The abrupt call through his mind from Stiles has Jackson crashing to the floor as the pack hunts for any clues as to the foxes whereabouts. It's not really painful, the sudden presence in his mind but it leaves the wolf winded and slightly dizzy.

 

“Jackson, Jackson!?” The teen blinks his eyes back into focus Peter's blue eyes coming into view as the kids tries to shake the blurriness from his view.

 

“Are you alright?” Talia asks, kneeling on the floor to the left of Peter.

 

“Stiles is at Gerard Argent's house.” He could see blurred images in his mind, Stiles jeep flipping. Kate and Gerard smiling into the shattered window. The echo of Stiles pain and fear bleeding into his very being.

 

“He's in the basement.” Jackson adds on, talking over Peter's snarls. “He's in pain but its fading into the background again. I think he passed out.”

 

“Come then.” Peter says, surging to his feet, easily pulling the smaller wolf up with him. “Call Victoria, I'd hate to start a war with the hunters when I kill her father in law and anyone else who had a hand in this.”

 

“Kate.” Jackson supplies following Peter blindly into the garage, the pack easily one step behind.

 

“Everyone dies, I don't care who.” Growls Peter.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

“Jesus Christ.” Peter is trying to block out the shocked sound of Chris's voice as he leans over his mate. His poor sweet mate who is covered in bloody cuts, skin around his eye bruised. A nasty gash on his cheekbone that had long since stopped bleeding but had yet to heal.

 

The wolfs hand was clamped down over one large bleeding wound on the boys stomach. Blood still flowing steadily. The wounds were Peter's main concern, his only concern. He could take all the time he wanted after Stiles was home and healing before he thought about the liquid mess that was now Kate and Gerard Argent.

 

“How is he?” Peter glances up quickly, shocked but not showing it outwardly that Victoria was the one to ask about Stiles well-being.

 

“He needs medical attention.” Stiles needed to see Deaton as soon as possible. “Nothing seems life threatening from the outside, but I don't know what kind of damage is hiding under the surface.”

 

“Go.” Victoria says, frowning down sadly at the hurt boy. “We'll take care of this mess, he's been through enough.”

 

Peter wasn't the only one shocked by the hunters words, he could smell the surprise in the air as he gently lifts Stiles into his arms. Cradling his smaller body into his chest, holding him like the precious being he was. 

 

“ Gerard and Kate....” Peter is cut of when Victoria lifts a hand to silence him. 

 

“Stiles will not be punished for what has happened here, those two had no right to meddle in the life of a Lunar Fox. What has happened to them is very much what they deserve.” Chris glances up then looking away from the splattered mess that is his father and sister. Blue eyes sad as he looks towards the boy in Peter's arms. 

 

“My grandfather always told us stories about Lunar Foxes. About the peace they could bring to the earth by simply being. I don't know how my father took that as a way to wipe out your kind, but I would like to apologize for his actions.” 

 

Peter scruffs. “Do not apologize for things that were beyond your control.” 

 

The wolf leaves then, walking through the blood and entrails that was the hunters. There really was no other option, Stiles had well and truly destroyed them.

 

Peter couldn't be more happy by this fact. The pack quickly following behind some muttering to themselves about the bloody mess Stiles had created. Others quite and thinking on the fact that Stiles held so much power under his skin. They were all relieved though, so damn grateful for having Stiles back. Though injured he is still alive, still breathing, still so very warm. 

 

And truly that is all Peter could ask for. 

 

His mate, a warm breathing beautiful presence in his life. 


	11. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fan art


	12. Words of encouragment

Stiles bolted up in bed, a scream on his lips that quickly turns into a gasp for breath as he fall’s head long into a panic. Peter easily grabs the boy and pulls him into his lap, having been waiting for the inevitable panic attack for hours now. With a shriek Stiles bucking in Peter’s hold, fighting to get loose from his captor unaware it was Peter holding him.

The wolf doesn’t hold it against Stiles, knows his sweet little foxes panic makes it unbearably hard for him to make heads or tails of what’s happening around him. With the added fact just five hours ago he was in the hands of two very deranged hunters Stiles was panicking far more than normal. It was understandable of course, no one in their right mind would come out of that unscathed from mental harm.

The bed dips and shudders as Jackson comes barreling onto the mattress, Peter having left the door open for the kids’ access just for this reason alone. Jackson had been on edge for hours now, distressed from his father’s words and Stiles going missing. If Stiles panic was suffocating on its own, with the added bonus of Jackson’s it was crushing Peter.

Stiles screams out again, eyes tightly closed as he fights the warm arms around his middle. Peter holds the cut, bruised slim arms against Stiles chest to keep the fox from hurting himself and the two wolves in close range.

“Come on sweetheart, come back to me.” Jackson plops his heavy body across Stiles flailing legs, using his weight to keep the fox from kicking out any more. The poor fox mistakes the weight as a way to bind him, he tries feebly bucking again but is unsuccessful at removing Jackson. His arms which are effectively being held still strain, back bowing so harshly Peter is suddenly worried his little mate will rip his stitches.

“Stiles!?” Peter never did like shouting at his mate, hated to have to raise his voice but the slow gentle stroking Peter’s fingers was doing to try coxing Stiles into awareness were ineffective. The boys panic was too much, the weight of the last several hours to taxing on his already stressed mind. Peter hated the hunters even more in that moment. Not just for physically harming his mate but also causing so much panic Stiles wasn’t even aware what he was doing or who was with him.

Stiles chokes on an inhale, his mouth open wide as he strains his neck to pull in a proper breath that seems to be evading him.

“Come on Stiles, calm down and breathe baby!” Jackson whine, bumping his large head against Stiles exposed waist, his own attempt to get Stiles to understand who was truly in his present company.

The fox’s eyes finally open and yet those amber eyes that should be looking up at Peter are rolled so far back in his head, the wolves could only see the whites of his eyes. His poor sweet boy was a mess of wounds, chest heaving, and body shaking in fear. Unware he was very much safe and home. For one wild second Peter thinks Stiles was moments from passing out from lack of oxygen, his panic so bad his lungs didn’t know how to function properly.

But then Peter hears it, a soothing deep voice in his mind. It’s a quite melody of sound and vibrations. Humming to life and calling out. The mate bond between Stiles and Peter burst and spark in his minds eyes, bright purples, greens, whites and deep reds.

‘Stiles, you’re okay.’

Peter tries not to react the sound of Jackson’s voice in his mind but he tenses for a moment before relaxing. This was not the time to wonder what the hell was going on.

‘Deep breath Stiles, I promise you’re okay.’

Peter holds steady, arms still locked around Stiles, keeping him trapped against the older man’s chest. He could attempt to use his alpha roar to get the boys attention but Peter had no way of knowing if it would have the opposite affect and make Stiles panic more.

‘Feel us Stiles, trust the warmth against your skin from my fur. Feel the strong steady heartbeat at your back from your mates’ chest. It’s us Stiles, you’re safe, and you’re home. We have you I promise.’

Stiles whines, slowly his bodies wild movements to get away relaxing. He’s still short of breath, still gaping like a drowning man. But he’s calming, his eyes rolling back to a proper position in his head. Those honey eyes are still dazed though, fighting through the thick turmoil and panic his body had put him through.

“P-Peter?” Crooks out Stiles, voice thick and horse from yelling.

“Yes sweetheart, it’s me, I got you.” What more could Peter really say? His words alone would have no effect until Stiles was more aware, more trusting in his surroundings.

“Peter.” Repeats Stiles, voice more confident, more sure.

“Yes beautiful love, I have you.”

A sob burst from Stiles lips, crystal tears following soon after. Stiles twists, and Peter lets him. Let’s Stiles turn until his face is pressed into the older man’s neck, Jackson follows the movement. Turning his own body but keeping himself laid out across Stiles legs, draped over his pale hips.

“I didn’t mean to.” Stiles whispers. His breath fanning against Peter’s skin. “I didn’t mean for them to die like that.”

“Shhh, now. You are not to blame for that, you had every right to defend yourself Stiles. You know this.” Peter reassures, hating that Stiles felt even a little guilty in how the hunters died.

“When they were hurting me I remembered.” Say’s Stiles. “I remembered every part of running from my home. Their faces as they chased us, the scent of their hate. I could suddenly recall it all and I got so angry. So damn angry.”

Jackson whines, bumping his head against Stiles once more. Stiles doesn’t move much in answer, but he does allow one arm to uncurl from Peter’s middle to sink into the wolfs multicolored fur.

“Your anger was justified Stiles.” More so really, with the things he had to suffer through because of the actions of Gerard Argent.

“It’s all my fault.” Stiles sobs, chest shuttering as he hiccupped and gasped for a breath.

“Nothing was your fault sweetheart.” Peter promises, not understanding where Stiles train of thought was suddenly heading.

“It is!” Stiles cries out. “It’s my fault my parents are dead Peter, because of what I am. My birth, my presents in their lives killed them.”

Jackson whines loud enough for himself and Peter both. Heartbroken that Stiles was thinking such a thing after everything else he had been through. Now guilt, guilt for past actions the boy had no control over was eating at him. Peter could not allow such a thing.

“It isn’t your fault. It could never be your fault Stiles, you were born as a beautiful creator of legions. Brought into this world as a being that had long since died out, but the only way that could have happened is if one of your parents had some link into that gene pool. They would of have known it was a slight possibility, and even still I doubt they would have ever second guessed having you.”

Stiles shudders, crying heavy tears of regret, pain and guilt.

“Sweetheart look at me.” It takes a moment, Stiles doesn’t move for the longest time Peter is sure he is going to ignore the request. Then he looks up, bright amber eyes glistening with tears, cheeks flushed from crying.

“Did you know, for the longest time I blamed myself for the death of my parents and grandparents. For years it hurt to look at my sister because I could see my mother in her, I could see the pain Talia was feeling from not having the support of our parents. I could not go one day without the guilt eating away at me for them dying.”

Stiles sniffs. “Your family was murdered by hunters Peter, that wasn’t your fault.”

Peter smiles sadly. “Be that as it may I still blamed myself, how could I not? None of us would have been at the lake house if it wasn’t for me.”

Stiles frowns, Jackson too giving his own wolf version of the look. “I don’t understand.”

“I was an angry teen, cocky, full of myself and so jealous of Talia being next in line for the alpha hood. I got into more trouble in school as an outlet that my parents devised a plan.” Peter sighs. “My mother and father asked for their parents to join the three of us on a small trip. A vacation if you will to help me calm and see that just because Talia was going to be the next alpha it didn’t make me any less a huge part of this pack.”

Peter twitches, his eyes only looking away from Stiles long enough to glance up at his sister who was standing in the opened doorway listening in.

“So we went, the eight of us left one Friday to spend a three day weekend on the lake. It was supposed to be fun, fishing, hiking and hunting. Getting back to nature to help sooth my wolf but…”

“Hunters found you.” Stiles whispers big eyes looking up at Peter sadly.

“Yes, the second night there hunters surrounded up, they must have followed or maybe they had just spotted us on a whim. Either way that night after spending hours running in full shift we woke to fire. The cabin was burning down around us, I could hear my father’s parents screaming. My alpha was fighting alongside her own parents. My world was nothing more than burning chaos but when my mother fell, when my dad screamed out for her my rage took over. I woke days later, in the hospital burned and with the weight of my families death on my soul.”

“That wasn’t your fault though! No one could have predicted the hunters, just because you went out there to relax doesn’t make it your fault!” Stiles argues back angrily and Peter wants to smile. Wants to chuckle at the boys annoyance but he waits for the teens own words to sink in.

It doesn’t take long, it never did with his clever little mate. “Oh.” Stiles whispers.

“Yes sweetheart, oh. If I’m not to blame for my family you very well aren’t for yours. No one can change what they are, you did not wish yourself into this world to bring harm to your parents. No sweet boy, you were just the beautiful blessing that your parents undoubtedly wished for and loved more than life itself.”

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles could feel the emotions building in Jackson for days now. Ever since returning home and learning about the awful things Jackson’s father had said and done Stiles had been keeping a close eye on his familiar. He didn’t much like the quite hum of Jackson’s hurt flowing through him, hated to be able to not only physically feel it but to taste it as well.

He let it be at first, silently hoping Jackson would seek him out to talk about it. Days passed though one after the other. That small twinge of hurt festered and grew within those days, darkening and flaring more each day.

Stiles let this go on for a week before he couldn’t take it anymore. He stomps into the wolfs room one night and slams the door closed behind him. This was a conversation no one needed to be a part of besides the two of them.

Jackson jerks at the sudden intrusion, his blue eyes quickly glancing up from the tablet he was messing around on.

“Something the matter Stilinski?” The wolf asks, eyebrow raised mouth as always set into a stubborn cocky line.

“Yes.” Is Stiles simple answer, he moves forward, gliding across the floor until he’s seated on the queen bed beside the wolf.

“You alright?” Stiles wants to snort at that, not sure if he would ever stop getting surprised at the concern in Jackson’s voice in his behalf.

“I’m fine… you on the other hand are not.” Stiles isn’t even a little shocked at the sneer that mares Jackson’s face then. Those blue eyes darkening.

“I’m doing better then you in the emotion trauma category Stiles.” Jackson barks out, trying to rile Stiles up for an argument the fox just wasn’t going to allow.

“Oh, I’m well aware I have serious issues, but we aren’t talking about me Jax. We are talking about you, I can feel how much you’re hurting. I just need you to talk to me okay?”

Jackson pouts, be it from Stiles shortening his name or the small plea in Stiles voice he didn’t know. The fox was well aware Jax had a problem with telling him no and he was going to use that to his advantage.

“There’s nothing really to say man.” Jackson says with a sigh. “Dad was a dick, nothing knew there.”

Glaring Stiles says. “That’s bullshit and you know it. There is plenty to say, you’re hurt, you’re confused and upset at what your father did. That is understandable okay? I get it but you can’t bottle it away, it will only end badly in the long run if you do that.”

Jackson turns away. “I just want to know if he ever really loved me like mom did. We didn’t always get along my dad and I. We butted heads more times than not, but I had thought. Had assumed he loved me, but you don’t do what he did if you love someone.”

Stiles sighs, crawling over the bed until he was shoulder to shoulder with Jackson. The pale boy rocks to the side bumping their shoulders together.

“I can’t give you the answer to that question, I would like to hope though. That a part of your father loved you and it was simply greed that had him doing what he did but I can’t know for sure.”

“That’s the problem isn’t it?” Jackson asks. “We can’t know shit because he’s dead, and if he was alive I doubt he would have spoken the truth.”

“I know it hurts now Jax, but I promise nothing that man did or allowed to happen to you should rule your life. You’re a free wolf now, with a proper pack that cares for your ex lizard ass and that’s all that matters.”

Jackson snorts a laugh. “Right, whatever you say Stilinski.”

Stiles smiles, “It will never not be true.”

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

“Stiles do something please!” Laura cries as she comes rushing into the library, feet stomping so loudly it was a miracle she did wake Jamie from his nap in the living room.

“And do tell me, what it is I’m supposed to be doing?” Stiles asks, from behind his book. Barely sparing the women in front of him a moments glance.

“Derek!” Laura says with an annoyed huff. “He’s in his room freaking out and I can’t deal with it anymore! The chemo signals alone he’s giving off are killing me, but if I have to keep listening to him mutter and grunt to himself I’m going to kill him.”

Stiles chuckles. “Is he freaking out over a midterm or something again?”

“Worse!” Laura shouts, arms waving wildly around her. An amusing thing to watch when it wasn’t Stiles himself doing it.

“What’s worse than that to Derek?” There wasn’t much that got the guy worked up, studying was Derek’s main focus most days. It couldn’t be pack business because everything had been smooth sailing these past six months since the attack on Stiles.

“A girl Stiles!” Laura suddenly says, voice dropping into a whisper like it still wouldn’t carry to any wolf ears in close range.

The fox perks up at that. “A girl? Like a girl he’s interested in romantically?”

“God yes, he’s sickeningly love struck!” Groans the she wolf.

Stiles jumps to his feet. “Derek, our Derek has a crush on a girl?!” With a grin the fox moves forward till his practically in Laura’s face. “Tell me everything.”

It wasn’t every day Derek did something like take interest in a girl, there was no way in hell Stiles was going to miss out on details.

“Her names Paige, she’s in his ancient literature class. Cute, feisty and smart to boot and Derek is so taken with her I swear to god I saw him drooling during our free hour when we met up for coffee.”

Stiles has to bite his lip to keep from laughing hysterically at the image that popped into his mind.

“You think she’s interested?” Stiles asks, already forming a plan in his mind.

“Oh hell yea, girl smells like raging hormones every time Derek walks by or talks to her. Plus the fact she asked him out on a date Friday was a big neon sign.”

“What!?” Stiles shouts arms sailing over his head. “You didn’t mention that first!? Why aren’t you helping him prepare for his date Laura!?” There’s no way she didn’t know how worked up Derek got about things of that nature. For someone so confident Derek truly did have a mile long streak of shyness when it came to girls.

“I tried, but all he says is shut up Laura, get out Laura, stop fucking laughing at me Laura. I can’t help in those conditions!” Whines the wolf as she plops down into a plush chair.

“Why the hell were you laughing?” Stiles hisses out. “This is probably a big deal for him, you can’t laugh or he’ll get all grumpy and turn up the bitch face.”

“I couldn’t help myself, it’s not every day I see my little brother panicking over a date.”

With an annoyed sigh Stiles flicks Laura off and stomps out of the room, no wonder Derek didn’t want her help. It shouldn’t really surprise him honestly, Laura would first pick on a person then help them. It was Stiles own fault for assuming she would go against her own nature.

Stiles finds Derek in his room, not lounging like he normally would be. No Derek was a frenzy of activity, rushing around his room. Throwing clothes from his closet then rushing towards his dresser to start the same process.

The hardwood floors is littered with clean rumpled clothes from Derek’s rough handling.

“Derek?” Stiles doesn’t wait for permission to come in, he helps himself and shuts the door behind him. Flipping the lock so a nosy sister wouldn’t try to join. Laura lost her chance the moment she left Derek freaking out like this.

“Oh, hey Stiles.” Derek rushes out, tossing a tan shirt over his shoulder with an angry grumble.

“Hey, I need you to settle down for a minute.” Voices the fox as he dodges a sweater that comes flying towards his face.

“I’m kinda busy, do you think it can wait?” Derek shifts on his feet, his green speckled eyes finally looking up long enough for Stiles to see the panic in them he was currently choking on.

“I’m here to help big guy, so chill.” Derek frowns, but at least Stiles got his attention. “What is the plan for your date?”

Derek looks so god smacked by the question you could swear Stiles had just whipped out his dick and waved it around like a like a glow stick at a rave.

“She fucking told!?” Derek shouts as he slams one draw shut and moves to the next.

“Hey man it’s cool, I really did come to help and not act like an ass.” Leave it to Laura to put Derek in such a mood.

Derek sighs, “I’m taking her to that little Italian place on main for dinner.”

A smile brightens Stiles face. “What about after?”

The wolf scratches the back of his head. “There’s a cello player doing a show one town over, Paige is a huge fan so I sat outside in the freezing rain for sixteen hours to get two tickets. I was thinking maybe coffee or hot chocolate after?”

Stiles raises a brow. “That last part sounds like a question.”

Derek shrugs. “I mean, is that over ordinary? Getting coffee after?”

“Sometimes Derek, the simple things are the best parts of life. I’m sure she’ll love it, as for the madness you are creating of your room. Might I suggest your dark red Hensley, wear your leather jacket over it and pull out those skin tight jeans I know you keep in the back of your closet. Your boots with that outfit will look sexy as hell.”

Derek blushes, making Stiles smile in pleasure. It always warmed him when he could calm one of his pack-mates.

“You think so?”

Stiles scruffs. “Hell yea, she’ll be having to fight to keep her hands to herself if you turn up looking like bad boy sex on legs.”

The laugh Derek gifts him with could make the devil crack a happy smile.

“You’re something else you know that?”

The fox grins. “Oh I know.”   

**Author's Note:**

> Possible OCC for most characters.   
> Unfortunately no beta for this story. I fixed what I could see.


End file.
